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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409202">The Mighty Dorks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_in_the_Hella/pseuds/Ghost_in_the_Hella'>Ghost_in_the_Hella</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainboq/pseuds/Rainboq'>Rainboq</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Life Is Strange (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Amberchase, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hockey!AU, Jock!Chloe, Slow Burn, idiots to lovers, marshrich, pricefield, pricefield on ice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:13:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>19,168</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28409202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghost_in_the_Hella/pseuds/Ghost_in_the_Hella, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainboq/pseuds/Rainboq</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Take a picture, it'll last longer."</p><p>Max thinks she's attending Rose City University to study photography. Turns out she's going to learn a whole lot more.</p><p>Welcome to Rose City U, where the hockey is rough, the women are buff, and poor Max is completely in over her head.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price, Rachel Amber/Victoria Chase, Steph Gingrich/Kate Marsh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>95</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>107</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Scrimmage</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>If you think there are a lot of ships in the tags, just wait til this thing really gets rolling.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>First year photography major Max Caulfield gets invited to a hockey practice with unexpected consequences.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Alright, Max, you can do this. It’s just hockey and photography; you love both of those things.</em> She closes her eyes and focuses her attention on the gentle refrains of the music emanating from her earbuds, letting the comforting sounds drown out the rest of the world and all of its messy concerns.</p><p>
  <em>You don’t even have to worry about the usual first date stuff. You’re taking pictures of a practice match for the school paper, Juliet’s going to keep you company, and Steph is on the rink so it’s not like you have to try to make small talk with her or whatever it is normal people do on a date. If this is even supposed to be a date. Which it probably isn’t; Steph’s just really nice and a really good RA and she probably only invited you to make sure you’re not a total lame-o shut in all semester.</em>
</p><p>Max takes a few long deep breaths before hammering her hands into the crash bar and pushing through the heavy fire doors.</p><p>A blast of chilled air meets her as she steps out into the top row of stands. Her skin prickles at the sudden temperature change and her ears delight as she trades her music for the sounds of skates scratching and skidding over ice. She stands there for a moment, just basking in the familiar and energizing sounds. The incoherent shouts, the slap of sticks on ice and rubber meeting wood at high speeds.</p><p>The rush of relief is palpable and sends a shiver through her. She opens her eyes again and scans the sparse stands for Juliet Watson. It doesn’t take long to find her: she’s waving at Max with a pair of hot chocolates on the bench next to her.</p><p>Max is relieved that, even though they haven’t known each other for very long, Juliet’s been paying enough attention to know to sit in the least populated part of the stands. Maybe it should be embarrassing that it’s so obvious Max is uncomfortable around groups of people, but if it means she doesn’t have to deal with a crowd on top of everything else that’s stressing her out, she’ll take it. She waves back and makes her way over.</p><p>“Hey,” Max greets her favorite co-worker. Her palms are sweating a bit as she clutches the bulky DSLR hanging around her neck for dear life. She wishes she could use her trusty polaroid, but the editor of the Rose Garden (the official campus newspaper for Rose City University), was very firm on the need to use digital, and honestly it makes sense. It’s definitely more suited to the task but it’s just… not Max. It’s also pretty nerve wracking because she has to use the paper’s camera since she doesn’t have her own DSLR and last night she made the mistake of looking up how expensive they are and… yeah. She’d just fucking better not drop the thing.</p><p>“Hey yourself, stranger! I was starting to worry you were going to ditch me!” Juliet picks up one of the delicious-looking beverages and offers it to Max as she takes her seat by Juliet’s side. </p><p>Max is beyond grateful that her first official assignment for the school paper is with Juliet. She’d been intimidated by her when they first met at the start of the semester - Juliet’s so pretty, so confident, so fashionable, and so not somebody who would give Max the time of day if they weren’t working together - but Juliet has proven herself to be exceptionally friendly and easy-going, if something of a gossip. A little touchy-feely for Max’s comfort level, but she seems to have picked up on Max’s poorly suppressed discomfort and has pared back her physical demonstrations of friendliness significantly. Max takes a sip of warm, chocolatey goodness and feels her perpetually tensed muscles begin to relax.</p><p>Juliet gestures at the rink with her steaming cardboard cup. “That’s your girl in goal,” she teases.</p><p>Max is grateful to have the cup to hide behind as her face immediately burns. Her eyes follow Juliet’s gesture anyway. “She’s so not my girl,” she mumbles. “She definitely didn’t mean it as a date thing.”</p><p>Steph’s way too cool for Max, though in a completely different way than Juliet. She’s older, for one thing: a junior majoring in graphic design, already with a spot in the studios even though she spends most of her time in the computer lab. She’s also the best RA in Max’s dorm building (and probably the whole school): responsible enough that Max feels safe under her care but chill enough that Max isn’t completely terrified that she’ll immediately be expelled if she ever bends the rules. She’s even been cool about Max’s friend and neighbor Kate keeping her bunny in the dorm as long as she hides her during room inspections and doesn’t let her wander into the common rooms.</p><p>Steph has great taste in movies, is an amazingly talented artist, and has this laid back vibe that puts Max’s perpetually jangled nerves at ease. She runs the campus D&amp;D club and is also the DM, and someday Max might even take her up on her invitations to join the guild. If she ever becomes less hideously shy. And if D&amp;D didn’t make her too painfully nostalgic for the long, rambling campaigns she and her childhood best friend used to make up.</p><p>Steph’s also pretty cute, but that is irrelevant because this is definitely, absolutely, <em>not a date</em>.</p><p>Juliet laughs warmly. “Max. The Big Gay on Campus invited you to come see her show off her sick hockey skills and hang out after the game. It’s <em>so</em> a date.”</p><p>Max sets down her cup and fidgets with the padded tether around her neck keeping her borrowed camera safe. She knew she shouldn’t have confided in Juliet about her concerns when Steph invited her to the game; Juliet’s a good shoulder to lean on, but she’s not exactly discreet. “You didn’t, uh, tell anyone about my maybe-date, did you?”</p><p>“Of course not!” Juliet exclaims in mock-offense, clasping a dramatic hand to her wounded heart. “Just Dana.”</p><p>Just one of Steph’s teammates, then. Great. Awesome. Max turns on the camera and turns to the task at hand: getting some cool action shots for the Rose Garden so they don’t regret hiring her and also not strangling Juliet. </p><p>“Okay, so, your girl - your <em>‘friend’</em>,” Juliet amends with intensely sarcastic quotes around the word, “is tending goal for the Portland Pirates.”</p><p>Another small hit of nostalgia gets Max right in the gut. “Pirates?”</p><p>“She’s also their captain,” Juliet plows on. “And down at the other end, we have the Ice Queens. Really, it’s only one team: the Rose City Briars. Better known as ‘Portland Thorns on Ice.’” Juliet chuckles. “Because of the soccer team?” she tries, then waves it off when Max just stares at her like she’s grown a second head. “Whatever. Anyway. Just make sure you get plenty of shots of both teams, okay?”</p><p>“Sure thing.” This, Max can do.</p><p>A whistle blast rends the air and Max’s attention snaps toward the ice. Her hands fumble with the unfamiliar digital camera and the accompanying lens. </p><p>After a moment of fiddling with the controls she has it in the mode she needs as the players coalesce around center ice. Her lens naturally gravitates to the focal point of the drama, the two centers facing off against each other. She backs off a bit, trying to frame them with the defense.</p><p>A wisp of blue hair peeking out from one’s helmet catches her notice but she doesn’t let it interfere with the shot.</p><p>Then the puck drops and her lens focuses back on the blue-haired defender who receives it. <em>Jersey 69? Really?</em> Max internally rolls her eyes without actually taking her eyes off her subject.</p><p>Time seems to pass in slow motion as she waits for her shot, 69’s body tensing and leaning forward as she prepares to push off. Max presses the shutter right at the moment of launch. From there the entropy of the sport takes over as players scramble for position and puck. Two players really capture her attention in the first shift: 69 and 37 Amber. 69 is this towering force of nature, plastering players over the boards who dare come into her zone with the puck and always having her goalie’s back.<br/>
She makes sure to snap a picture of the goalie, 42, Steph. Of course Steph’s helmet is airbrushed to look like a beholder; it’s awesome and totally deserves a spot in the paper.</p><p>Amber on the other hand is a queen on skates, rushing forwards and dancing around the defense before her. She handles the puck with grace and skill, easily weaving around her opposing winger to make a dash at the net. Only two real things stand between her and a goal: 69, and her refusal to pass the damn puck.</p><p>“Hey, why do only some of the players have their name on their jerseys?” Max asks Juliet when there’s a brief lull due to an icing call.</p><p>“They’re just practice jerseys, so they have to pay for the names. For the real games the college provides it.”</p><p>Max frowns at the subtle slight, but the puck dropping again gets her attention back to the game in short order.</p><p>The teams are pretty evenly matched. The Portland Pirates have a solid defense, especially when 69 is on the ice, but their offense is too timid. The Ice Queens on the other hand are full of aggression but completely lacking in coordination; between Amber not passing the puck and 21, Chase, being completely out of position, they’re getting picked apart by the Pirates.</p><p>
  <em>At least it’s a clean match; nobody is going too crazy here. Then again, this is only a friendly. They’ve all got to play on the same team at the end of the day.</em>
</p><p>Max keeps her shutter going, doing her best to pick out the highlights of the action. There’s Amber dekeing out 69 to deliver a precise wrist shot, only to be blocked at the last second by Steph’s pad. She gets a great shot of 69 plastering Chase against the boards because she drives too deep without backup.</p><p>
  <em>My camera just keeps following 69. It’s… kinda weird.</em>
</p><p>A horn blows and Max looks up from her viewfinder to realize that the first period is already over.</p><p>“Get some good shots?” Juliet asks, leaning too far into Max’s space before she course-corrects.</p><p>“I don’t know…” Max thumbs through the photos stored in the camera’s memory, suddenly self-conscious and hyper-aware of Juliet’s attention on the small screen.</p><p>“Hmmmm, interesting.”</p><p>The hairs at the back of Max’s neck stand on end and a cold chill shoots down into her stomach. <em>Oh, God, what did I mess up? This is only my first assignment on the paper; am I already screwing up??</em> “What? What’s interesting?” she asks, trying not to let her panic show in her voice.</p><p>“Fewer pictures of Steph than I’d’ve expected, considering she’s your,” Juliet pauses to throw up finger quotes, “‘not date.’ Number 69, on the other hand…”</p><p>“69’s just really good,” Max mumbles sheepishly, a hot flush creeping up to her cheeks. <em>And tall. And fast. And has dyed hair. And could probably bench-press me.</em> It takes Max a second to realize what, exactly, Juliet’s laughing at, but when she figures it out she gives her a playful shove. “Really mature, Jules.”</p><p>“Why, thank you. Anyway, I actually agree; she’s kicking some serious ass out there.” Juliet smirks and nods in the direction of the rink, where Steph’s waving up at them enthusiastically. “Steph, too.”</p><p>Max ducks her head and waves back, then immerses herself in drinking her now-cold but still delicious cocoa.</p><p>The buzzer sounds again and Max trades her cold cocoa for her camera as quickly as she dares. With the sides reversed she can get some great shots of the Ice Queens coming at her head on. She gently hums an old hockey song to herself, wrapping herself with memories of watching games growing up like a security blanket.</p><p>She quickly finds her groove again, frame, focus and subject lining up on instinct. She’s so wrapped up in her element that she doesn’t even really notice when Juliet starts talking to her.</p><p>“Max?”</p><p>“Hm?” Max doesn’t put the camera down; she can just feel a great shot coming up as Chase hurtles toward 69.</p><p>“Did you hear me?”</p><p>“Mhm.” Chase ends up flattened against the boards but Amber is there to pick up the puck and the Ice Queens take it deeper into the Pirates’ end.</p><p>“So you’re cool with it?”</p><p>Max’s finger barely leaves the shutter button, taking shot after shot of Amber’s dazzling performance on the ice as she weaves through the collapsing defense in her drive toward the net. It’s a brilliant display of puck handling and skating. Shame that the puck gets poked away from her as she’s boxed in and doesn’t pass. “Oh, yeah.”</p><p>“Awesome! Thanks, Max; you’re a total lifesaver. So, I have a list of the questions you should ask the Pirates after the game. You should probably start with your ‘not-date.’”</p><p>Max’s breath catches in her throat and reality comes rushing down on her like a freight train. “W-what?”</p><p>“I mean, you don’t really know your way around an interview so I figured some written questions would help.”</p><p><em>Oh no, did I actually agree to interview people?! Shit, what am I going to do? I can… Okay. Okay. I can just talk to Steph. I’ve talked to her before. Yeah, I’ll do that. Just talk to Steph and stick to the questions Jules wrote for me and it’ll… it’ll be okay. Probably. Nobody’s ever actually <strong>died</strong> of anxiety, right?</em> “Th-thanks.”</p><p>The buzzer blares for the end of the second period and Max takes a deep, shaky breath, her nerves flaring at the prospect of being in a new space with people she doesn’t know. But with a script at least she can just read the questions and write down the answers.</p><p>She starts running her fingers over her thighs and takes a few deep breaths as she runs through her mental exercises to center herself. She’s in her third round of square breathing when Juliet leans over and points down the aisle. “Friend of yours?”</p><p>Max turns her head with a nervous jerk, her body tensing back up as her fight-or-flight mechanisms are pressed into action once again. When she recognizes Kate Marsh sidling down the row toward them, her muscles melt back into ease and she can’t help but smile. “Hi, Kate!” She gingerly sets down the camera and stands when Kate gets near so she can enthusiastically accept her offered hug, which draws a raised eyebrow from Juliet. </p><p>Kate is easily Max’s favorite person on her floor in the dorms. Without Kate, she’d probably still be curled up in the safety of her own single and not talking to any of her dormmates. Kate invited her over for a cup of tea on move-in day, and from there they quickly settled into a regular routine of tea dates. It’s been years since Max has had a friend who understands her so well and makes her feel so comfortable. She’s the sweetest, gentlest, kindest soul that Max has ever met. Plus, she’s got an adorable bunny named Alice who has the softest fur in the world and is the perfect snuggle buddy. Just being around Kate is enough to make her forget the chill of the rink and suffuse her with warm tingles.</p><p>“Hey, Max! I didn’t know you liked hockey.”</p><p>“Oh, uh, I’m here for the school paper.” She picks up the camera demonstratively, looping it back around her neck with caution. “Trying my hand at sports photography. And, uh, this is Jules. Juliet. Watson. She’s a reporter for the paper.”</p><p>“Kate Marsh,” Kate introduces herself, extending a hand toward Juliet, who gives her a firm and very professional-looking handshake. </p><p>“Jules, like Max said. Extreme reporter and investigative journalist extraordinaire.”</p><p>Kate beams. “Pleased to meet you, Jules.”</p><p>“Likewise.”</p><p>“Kate lives in the dorm next to mine,” Max informs Juliet, unable to stop smiling. “She’s a freshman, too. Psych major with an art minor. We’re in the same life drawing class. She’s really, really good.”</p><p>“Aw, thank you, Max! You’re really good, too.”</p><p>Max just ducks her head and avoids eye contact in her embarrassment. “I’m really not, though,” she mumbles too quietly for anybody to hear her.</p><p>“Well, you’re welcome to join us for the third period if you want as long as you don’t mind Max being a shutterbug and me taking notes for the paper.”</p><p>“I’d love to!” Kate gives Max a questioning look, glancing down at the space next to her and then up to Max’s eyes to nonverbally check in. Max isn’t a big fan of being sandwiched between people, but the stands are open enough that she won’t feel boxed in, plus Kate’s a gentle enough presence that Max should be okay. She isn’t quite sure that she could ever get uncomfortable around her in the first place; being around Kate makes things so much easier. Max smiles and nods her assent and Kate sits down beside her, close enough to be friendly but far away enough to give Max space to breathe should she need it. Max shuffles closer, letting Kate into her bubble.</p><p>“So, Kate. You’re a hockey fan?” Juliet asks, leaning around Max.</p><p>“Oh!” She giggles a bit sheepishly, her cheeks pinkening just slightly. “I don’t follow sports much, actually. But hockey is fine. I have a lot of friends on the team.”</p><p>Max observes that Kate looks a bit embarrassed but doesn’t pry. Juliet, on the other hand, lights up like a shark that’s scented blood. “Friends, huh? Anyone in particular?”</p><p>Kate’s blush deepens and she rubs the back of her neck. “Oh, well, actually, um, I’m sort of the unofficial team mascot?”</p><p>Juliet leans closer still, forcing Max to lean back and out of her way at the violation of her bubble. “How interesting! How did that come to be?”</p><p>Kate’s practically purple. “O-oh, it’s silly. I was friends with some of the players from high school, so I started bringing baked goods to their practices like I did then. Now I’m friends with just about everybody. Somebody made a joke about me being their mascot, and it just sort of… stuck?”</p><p>Juliet’s interrogation is interrupted by the whistle blowing for the third period.</p><p>The third period seems to go faster; the players on the rink are frustrated that the game stands at 1 - 1 and it shows. The once tight defense of the Pirates starts playing looser aside from 69, and the aggression of the Ice Queens boils over into penalties.</p><p>Chase gets a two minute for hooking, but the Pirates can’t capitalize on the power play and soon find themselves stuck on the back foot. The Ice Queens slowly start to flag, though, and soon the shoe is on the other foot with the Pirates pushing hard across the rink.</p><p>Max can’t get into her flow state - not with the looming interviews hanging over her - but at the same time she’s just having fun watching the game while Jules and Kate idly chat over her head.</p><p>When the buzzer finally goes, the game still sits at 1 - 1 and the players line up for a shoot out.</p><p>It’s a slaughter.</p><p>Without the stolid 69 between Steph and Amber, the puck finds a hole and gets into the net with every bit of flare and technical precision she’s come to expect from her.</p><p>The Pirates can’t answer, and Chase scores the follow up, neatly placing the puck over Steph’s shoulder and into the net with a flick of her wrist.</p><p>69 makes a solid go at the net, but the Ice Queen’s goalie, 13, manages to deflect her eye wateringly hard slapshot with her stick.</p><p>And just like that, the game is over.</p><p>Max is grateful for Kate’s company as she heads toward the changing room and her probable doom, if her anxiety is to be believed. She’s also beginning to reevaluate Juliet’s status as her favorite co-worker as her palms start to sweat through the sheet of questions. </p><p>Kate seems perfectly at ease, carrying a large tray of beautiful brownies and humming happily. Max wonders how she managed to bake such perfect baked goods in the crappy oven of the common kitchen area. The cooking equipment is so old and cantankerous that Max can barely heat up ramen without setting off the smoke detector. Then again, if anyone could work miracles, it’d definitely be Kate.</p><p>“Everybody’s very nice,” Kate assures her when they reach the entrance of the Pirates’ locker room. “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of good material.”</p><p>“Uh-huh…”</p><p>Kate leads with her tray of brownies, drawing the attention of most of the people in the room to herself as someone shouts, “The cinnamon bun brought brownies!” and she’s swiftly flocked by sweaty hockey players with grabby hands. </p><p>The immediate impression Max has of the changing room’s atmosphere is: overwhelming. People talk and laugh loudly, rough-housing and squabbling playfully as they grab at the brownies, jostling each other in a way that’s clearly good-spirited but with enough force that they’d probably dislocate Max’s shoulder if she were on the receiving end, and, oh yeah, they’re also in varying stages of undress.</p><p>Because it’s a changing room. Duh. Somehow with all of Max’s anxious fretting about having to talk to people, she forgot the fact that they probably wouldn’t be wearing all of their clothes.</p><p>Which is fine. Because Max is a professional. Well. She’s here in an official capacity, anyway. </p><p>“Oh, hey, paparazzi,” one particularly shirtless athlete jokes, seeing the camera around her neck. “Make sure you get my good side, huh?” She flexes her muscles and grins in Max’s direction before shoveling a brownie indelicately into her mouth.</p><p>Max swallows hard. “O-oh, I already took pictures, I-I’m here to… to, um…”</p><p>“She’s here as a reporter for the Rose Garden,” Kate speaks up helpfully. Judging by her face, she either hasn’t noticed that most of the women around her aren’t fully clothed or else is completely inured to it. “Is it okay if she interviews some of you?” Max would be terrified if she were in Kate’s shoes but Kate seems perfectly in her element, receiving fist bumps and high fives as well as friendly noogies that threaten to dislodge her loose bun of blonde hair with easy good humor. “Don’t forget to leave some for the Ice Queens,” Kate admonishes the swarm of athletes.</p><p>“Fuck the Ice Queens,” someone declares gleefully, smashing a brownie into her mouth. Number 69, Max notices, unable to miss the huge number on the back of her jersey. The blue hair hanging in sweaty chunks from her unfastened helmet looks even cooler up close. She’s still fully in her uniform, skates and all, but Max feels her heart skip a beat anyway. <em>I wonder how she would feel about being interviewed… Ha, as if. I’d probably faint if I tried to talk to her.</em></p><p>“Hey, glad you made it,” a familiar voice speaks up to Max’s side. Max turns and gives a relieved smile when she sees that Steph is still mostly in her uniform. She’s shucked off her helmet and some of her heavier padding, but she’s showing, if anything, <em>less</em> skin than normal. She’s even got her usual beanie on. “What did you think of the game?”</p><p>“It was really exciting,” Max tells her truthfully. “You were awesome.”</p><p>“Thanks! Hey, did Kate say something about you doing interviews?”</p><p>“Y-yeah… I mentioned to one of my co-workers on the paper that I was planning on coming to the friendly today, and our editor thought it would be a good opportunity for us to get some photos and interviews to do a puff piece on the women’s hockey team. Get some press for your upcoming season, that sort of thing.”</p><p>“That’s a great idea. We could definitely use the support.” She rolls her eyes. “If we were in Canada, we’d probably be fighting off the crowds with a stick. But in the U.S., nobody really cares.”</p><p>“Would you, uh, would you like to be my first interview subject?”</p><p>“Totally! And hey, I know you’re working and all so it’s cool if you don’t want to, but my offer for you to hang out afterwards is still good. A few of us are probably going to grab some pizza off-campus once everybody’s showered, but it might be a bit of a wait. Should be a pretty chill time, though.”</p><p><em>Steph really is sweet, inviting me to join but giving me an easy out if I’m too overwhelmed. Which I probably am.</em> “Um, thanks, that’s really nice of you. I’ll probably just want to go home? But maybe some other time?”</p><p>“Sure, no worries. So, what’re your questions?”</p><p>“Oh, uh.” Max smooths out the list of questions Juliet gave her as best she can. She scribbles down Steph’s name on the sweat-damp paper. “What do you love about hockey?”</p><p>“I mean, what’s not to love? It’s fast, it’s fun, and being in net means I don’t get as sweaty as these meatheads. No offense.”</p><p>“Hey! Fuck you, too!” another player retorts and there’s general laughter.</p><p>“How do you think the team is coming together? Is there anything you think the team needs to focus on as you move into the regular season?”</p><p>“The Pirates are just a practice team; as the Rose City Briars overall, we need to work on offensive cohesion. But Coach Donaldson says that defense wins championships, and we’ve got that on lock.” Steph pauses and twists, stretching her lower back until it gives a satisfying pop. “Hey, you mind if I sit? I’ve been squatting all day and my legs are killing me. You’re welcome to join me, if you want.” She gestures to a mostly empty wood bench where another player is busy unlacing her skates. The player is bent over double, her helmet blocking most of Max’s view of her. Her jersey is hiked halfway up her torso, obscuring her player number. A half-eaten brownie appears to be clenched between her teeth.</p><p>There’s something familiar in the player’s pose, the curve of her shoulders as she bends to unlace her skates, that makes Max nostalgic. It’s been years since she’s been skating, but she used to do it all the time with her old friend Chloe and one of their fathers. Usually her own, but it was usually more fun if it was William Price. The memory makes Max’s heart hurt. “Um, I’m fine, but you can go right ahead.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Steph says, sitting down and stretching out her legs. “It feels good to sit after a game.”</p><p>“Hmph,” scoffs the player doubled over next to her, “you’re probably still sore after the workout I gave you last night.”</p><p>Steph laughs and all the blood rushes from Max’s head to the pit of her stomach. <em>Oh, god</em>. She redirects her attention to the sheet of questions, trying not to think herself into a spiral. “H-how did you start playing hockey?”</p><p>“My mom’s from Canada originally,” Steph replies, stretching her shoulders. “She started teaching me to skate basically as soon as I could walk. Then when I went to Blackwell Academy, my high school girlfriend and I--”</p><p>Max startles. “Blackwell?” she asks. “You’re from Arcadia Bay?”</p><p>Steph looks surprised herself. “Not originally, but I lived there for a few years as a teenager. You know Arcadia Bay? It’s a pretty small town; I’m surprised you’ve heard of it.”</p><p>“Asshole of the world,” the athlete beside her grumbles, starting on her second skate.</p><p>“I grew up there,” Max tells her. “Until I was thirteen, anyway.”</p><p>The player beside Steph stops unlacing her skate, her shoulders stiffening. “<em>Max</em>?!” She lifts her head and looks into Max’s eyes and everything comes to a screeching halt.</p><p>Steph is saying something, Max is pretty sure. Only she can’t hear the words, because that’s <em>Chloe</em> sitting there. Chloe Price, her childhood best friend, her first and most enduring crush. The girl she abandoned in Arcadia Bay. The girl whose texts she stopped answering, whose calls she stopped returning because suddenly the one person she was never afraid to talk to became someone she had no idea how to talk to. What do you say to your best friend when her father’s just died and you’ve just moved too far away to be there for her? What do you say to her when she’s hurting and angry and you’re boiling over with very confusing feelings about her that you’re pretty sure you’re not supposed to have?</p><p>“Fuck me,” Chloe says with a shake of her head. “Max Caulfield. I thought I recognized your voice, but I figured that was just exhaustion.” </p><p>Once more, Max finds herself at a loss for words. Apparently, six years wasn’t long enough to figure out what to say to Chloe.</p><p>“Ohhhhhh, shiiiiiiiiit,” Steph says slowly, realization dawning on her. “I <em>thought</em> there was something familiar about your name, but it never clicked. I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection sooner. You’re <em>that</em> Max? Chloe’s Max?”</p><p><em>Chloe’s Max.</em> Max tries not to think too hard about why her heart skips a beat at that particular combination of words. “I-I…”</p><p>“Yeah, she’s still the same Max Caulfield, alright. I’d recognize that dopey face anywhere.” Chloe smiles, but it’s tight and frayed around the edges. “Hey, Max. Fancy meeting you here.” She bends again, blue hair spilling forward into her face from under her helmet - <em>Holy shit, Number 69 is <strong>Chloe</strong>?!</em> -     and resumes unlacing her skate.</p><p>Which is both more and less of a reaction than she would have expected from Chloe, if she had ever thought she would see her again to receive one. “H-hey, C-Chloe…”</p><p>Steph’s gone quiet and thoughtful. Chloe, for her part, finishes unlacing and kicks off her skates.</p><p>Steph tugs awkwardly at the hem of her sweaty beanie. “Uh, yeah, so… My, uh, my high school girlfriend and I got into playing for the local team. We got scouted and… yeah. Ended up here.”</p><p>“That’s… cool…” </p><p>“I’m the high school girlfriend,” Chloe interjects, “you know, independent verification and all that shit.”</p><p>Max stops scribbling down notes as her mind goes horribly blank and her ears hiss with static. Chloe and Steph are cuffing each other on the shoulder and their mouths are moving, but Max can’t follow what’s going on. <em>Chloe? And Steph??</em> Not for the first time, Max mourns for the life she could have had in Arcadia Bay if only her dad hadn’t gotten that stupid job in stupid Seattle. </p><p>“--d’you think, Max? ...Max?”</p><p>Max shakes off her fugue state and finds Steph staring at her with a measure of concern. “What?”</p><p>Chloe’s shrugging her shoulders. “I’m down if you are.”</p><p>“..What?” Max repeats, wishing she hadn’t zoned out so hard.</p><p>“For your interview?” Steph presses gently. “You probably want to talk to more people than just me, right?”</p><p>“R-right. Yeah, that makes sense.”</p><p>“I’ll leave you two to it, then. I’ve gotta grab a brownie from Kate before she moves on to the Ice Queens.” Steph claps Chloe’s shoulder before the two of them do an elaborate fist bump. “I’ll see you around the dorms, ‘kay, Max? And seriously, if you change your mind about pizza with the team just shoot me a text.”</p><p>And then Max is alone with Chloe. As alone as two people can be in a room full of people, anyway. “So, Max. You’ve got some questions for me?”</p><p>Hundreds. Thousands. More than she can count. How did she and Steph start dating? Are they <em>still</em> dating? Would Max have had a shot with Chloe if she’d stayed in Arcadia Bay, or would she have been stuck being the heartbroken third wheel when Chloe and Steph got together? <em>Oh, right, wait, she probably means my interview questions.</em> “How do you think the team is coming together?” she asks, touching the shaky tip of her pencil to the paper. “The Briars, I mean, not the Pirates.”</p><p>“If Rach and Vic can pull their faces out of each other’s crotches we’ll be fine. Shit, you probably have to put this in print, right? Fuck it, something generic about needing to pull together as a team.”</p><p>Chloe rises to her feet, and even with her skates off she still towers over Max. She was always the taller one, but Max is unprepared for just how much she’s grown. She’d have to stand on tip toes to get anywhere near her eye level. “Any more questions?”</p><p>“H-how <em>tall</em> are you?” <em>Juliet didn’t put that on the list, but it’s a legitimate question to ask an athlete, right? Right??</em></p><p>Chloe chuckles. “Almost 5’10”. I’m also a Picses and I like long walks on the beach.” She slips her helmet off her head and shakes out her hair. It looks cooler every time Max sees it: now that it’s properly unveiled, she can see that it’s not just blue but a striking ombre from purple to blue.</p><p>“I <em>know</em> your zodiac sign,” Max grumbles, ears reddening. “I used to go to your birthday parties.”</p><p>“Just testing the waters. It’s been over half a decade, after all,” Chloe says almost casually, as if half a decade isn’t really that long of a time. And then she starts to take off her clothes.</p><p>Which is completely normal and fine: everybody around them is doing it. They’re in a changing room; that’s literally what it’s used for. Her jersey slides up over her torso, revealing heavy padding around her chest and shoulders and, beneath them, a jaw-dropping set of abs.</p><p>Max forces herself to look away. <em>You’re here as a professional. You’re here as a professional. You’re here as a professional.</em> “You have a very, um, interesting jersey number. How did you choose it?”</p><p>A sharp, mischievous laugh, one that sends a wave of nostalgia over Max. “How do you think?” The jersey in question lands on the wooden bench. It’s followed by one sock (drenched with sweat) and then another. There’s more rustling and plastic thudding as Chloe continues to casually disrobe. Max channels every ounce of focus at her disposal into the list of questions in front of her, and she hopes she’s not going to faint.</p><p>Because Chloe was always pretty, but she’s an adult now and she’s an athlete and she’s jacked as fuck and oh no she’s <em>hot</em>.</p><p>“W-w-wh-what do you, um, what do you love about the game?” Max stutters like an absolute lust-struck goon. </p><p>“Plastering people on the boards is a great way to work out my anger, or at least that’s what my counselor tells me. But mostly I love that it helped me get the fuck out of Arcadia Bay.”</p><p>That strikes Max as odd. Arcadia Bay still enjoys a hallowed place in her mind. It wasn’t perfect, but it’s where most of her happy memories live. Plus it’s got its own unique, small town charm.</p><p>“How did you get into hockey?” Max pushes on. “Steph said you two played together in high school?”</p><p>“Yeah. I mean, you were there for the beginning of it, but I guess maybe don’t put that in the paper. But yeah, Steph and I met in high school and started skating together, playing the occasional pickup game. On the ice, in the streets, whatever. It was a good way to blow off steam after dad died and you left. And especially after Joyce remarried.”</p><p>That surprises Max enough to force her to look up again. Chloe’s jaw is clenched, and she’s staring off into the middle distance. She’s also wearing nothing but a sports bra above her hockey pants, but Max is definitely not thinking about that, not when Chloe is clearly hurting. Her mind might be quietly filing away information about the curve of her muscles and the way that sweat glistens on her glorious delts, but she’s very much not thinking about anything other than her concern for Chloe. The room suddenly being warmer is just her imagination. “Your mom remarried?”</p><p>Chloe nods. “Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know about that. You’d already basically stopped talking to me by the time they met. Happened pretty soon after dad died, which was obviously <em>awesome</em>.” There’s a spasm in her jaw muscles, and for a second Max is worried she’s going to grind a tooth right out of her mouth. “Anyway. Everything sucked at home, blah blah blah, everything sucked at school, blah blah blah, but Steph didn’t suck and hockey didn’t suck so I just kinda channeled all my energy into the parts of my life that didn’t suck.” She blinks rapidly as if just realizing who she’s talking to and why. “Uh. Maybe don’t put any of that in the paper, okay? Nobody wants to hear that shit.”</p><p>“<em>I</em> want to hear that shit,” Max offers, and she means it. She wants to know everything about Chloe, who she is now and who she’s been for the past six years. </p><p>Chloe eyes her skeptically. “Uh-huh. Anyway, just write something down like… My dad used to take me skating as a kid and I really loved it. And just leave it at that.”</p><p>Max nods and dutifully writes down Chloe’s quote. “You really did love it,” she says.</p><p>“So did you.”</p><p>“I still do,” Max softly replies, failing to keep the emotion out of her voice as she remembers the cold winter days where William would take them both out on the ice, teaching them the basics of handling a stick. But she can’t exactly bring up William, not now. “Hockey is, like, the only thing I have in common with pops anymore.”</p><p>An odd look passes over Chloe’s face as she starts pulling off her shin guards. “Mr. C still got a stick in one hand and a beer in the other?”</p><p>“N-not so much anymore. Something about his back; we just watch the games now.”</p><p>“Shame, I woulda loved to see the look on your old man’s face when I checked him.” </p><p>Suddenly a hand ruffles Chloe’s hair and she jolts upright. Max’s eyes follow the hand up a well-muscled arm and instantly the heat rises in her face as she finds a topless woman grinning at her with this dangerous glint in her eyes as she speaks in a teasing tone. “‘Ow’s she cuttin’ Chloe?”</p><p>Chloe snorts and pulls her head away from the offending hand. “I’m fucking terrific, ‘sup with you, Sandy?”</p><p>“I’m just ‘bout gutfounded, b’y. Who’s yer ducky?” Sandy leans in over Chloe and Max does her best to avert her eyes from the woman’s dangling chest, which only seems to delight the woman in question further.</p><p>If the display is anything out of the ordinary, Chloe gives no indication. “This is Max, Max Caulfield, we, uh, grew up together.”</p><p>“Um, h-hi.” Max gives her a small wave.</p><p>“G’wan! Bys Jesus she’s some piece a gear.” Sandy swat’s Chloe’s shoulder and shoots Max a wink that does nothing to help her racing heart. “Mind yer lines wit dat one me love.”</p><p>“Fuck off, Sandy,” Chloe says with a laugh, “go pick on Dana or something.”</p><p>“You’re some crooked! I hears ya, I hears ya.” She turns her attention to Max and shoots her another wink. “I’ll drop over ‘round by and by.”</p><p>There’s a cackle and the other woman is sauntering off towards the showers. Chloe just shakes her head and laughs. “Did you understand what she was saying?”</p><p>“N-not really.” Max says with a shake of her head.</p><p>“Sandy’s just hamming her accent up to fuck with you.” Chloe shakes her head again as she stands up. “She’s from Newfoundland, up in Canada. Bigger hickhole than Arcadia. Oh, and if she offers you a drink, don’t take it. You’ll thank me later.”</p><p>“S-something I should be concerned about?” A sinking feeling fills Max’s gut as she desperately tries to keep her eyes off of Chloe’s physique as she drops her padded pants to the floor.</p><p>“Not if you can hold your booze, but the shit she’s got is <em>nasty</em>.” Max tries not to stare as Chloe takes off her garter belt and starts peeling off her sweat drenched pants. She really does. But she can’t help it, nor can she help how warmth flushes through her at the sight of those sculpted thighs as they glisten with sweat. She squeezes her legs together and tries to force her gaze back to the interview sheet.</p><p>“Got more questions for me there, ace reporter, or can I go have a shower?” </p><p><em>You’re a professional, you’re a professional, this is just an interview, you’re a professional.</em> “I-I do, but I c-can wait,” she manages to stammer out while continuing to avert her gaze as best she can.</p><p>“Cool, I’ll be back when I’m not gross as fuck.”</p><p>Max glances up and nearly chokes on her own spit as Chloe stands before her fully in the nude. She’s fairly certain steam should be flying out of her ears as her entire body is so, so warm. She can’t help but wonder what it would be like to get crushed between those thighs, to feel those astonishing abs under her fingers, or just what Chloe might be able to do with her with a physique like that. When her eyes finally meet Chloe’s there’s a grin on her face. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”</p><p>Max starts to splutter but Chloe walks off toward the showers with a caustic laugh and Max can’t tear her eyes off the way those hips sway and that toned ass. <em>I need a cold shower. Oh, this is bad, this is so, so bad.</em></p><p>“Max, are you feeling alright? You’re bright red!” Kate, balancing a decimated brownie tray on her other arm, extends a hand to Max’s forehead. “Do you have a fever?”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Max squeezes out unconvincingly.</p><p>“Hold on, let me find my wallet thermometer…”</p><p>“I’m fine,” Max repeats as Kate begins to dig through her pockets. <em>I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m <strong>fine</strong></em>.</p><p>Max is <em>so</em> not fine.</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p><p>(Illustration by the inimitable Blu!)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rain: With apologies to my fellow Islanders.</p><p>A translation:<br/>"'Ow's she cuttin'" - "How are you doing?"</p><p>"I'm just 'bout gutfounded, b'y. Who's your ducky?" - "I'm starving, who's your friend?"</p><p>"G'wan! Bys Jesus she's some piece a gear" - "You're kidding me! Holy shit she's hot."</p><p>"Mind your lines wit dat one me love." - "Make sure you keep others away."</p><p>"You're some crooked! I hears ya, I hears ya." - "You're a grump. I hear ya."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Old Tensions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>After their reunion, Max and Chloe both have a lot of processing to do. Not to mention steam to blow off and tensions to resolve.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>For probably the first time in her life, Chloe is having a hard time focusing on pizza. It still smells delicious, obviously: hot, gooey and so greasy it’s soaking through her paper plate. But even as her body notices these awesome things, her brain won’t process them.</p>
<p>She’s thinking about something else entirely. Someone else, specifically. A hella cute brunette with bony elbows and a faceful of freckles and dark blue eyes that haunted her dreams for way too long after she left her life. What are the odds that Max would show up again <em> now </em> ? Chloe’s practically got her life together. Well, she’s <em> closer </em>to having her life together than she has been at basically any previous point in her life. She’s got good friends, a full athletic scholarship, and she’s doing well in school for the first time since her dad died. She’s got people she can cuddle when she doesn’t want to be alone and friends who’re flexible about benefits when she’s in the mood for more. She’s got a healthy outlet for her anger, a good therapist who’s actually been really fucking helpful, and a student apartment that lets her live on campus while also granting her a measure of independence.</p>
<p>
  <em> So why does it hurt so fucking much to see Max again? </em>
</p>
<p>Steph is the first to notice that Chloe’s off, of course. She’s always been good at reading Chloe, possibly even better at it than Max used to be when they were younger. “You doing okay?” she asks quietly, leaning in close so that nobody else can hear. “You’ve barely touched your slice.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, I’m good. Just letting it cool.”</p>
<p>Steph furrows her brow but doesn’t call Chloe on her bullshit. Chloe will be in for a serious grilling later, she’s sure, but for now Steph’s giving her a pass. </p>
<p>“Hey, if you don’t want it, I’ll eat it,” Rachel busts in, reaching for Chloe’s plate. Chloe swiftly jerks it away from her grabby hands.</p>
<p>“Oh, yeah; you’d love my sloppy seconds, wouldn’t you?” she snarks.</p>
<p>Rachel just grins at her and tosses her a playful wink. They broke up forever ago, but Rachel winking at her still does embarrassing things to her. Chloe snatches the congealing slice from her plate and starts cramming it into her mouth with her usual grotesque vigor.</p>
<p>“You’re a pig,” Rachel says, picking up a napkin and dabbing at the corner of Chloe’s mouth as she eats. “<em> Such </em> a messy eater. But then, I guess that some things never change.”</p>
<p>Chloe just narrowly manages not to choke on her pizza. Steph chuckles and shakes her head. Somewhere across the table, Chloe can literally <em> feel </em> Victoria’s blood pressure rising. <em> I guess their “on-again, off-again” mess is off-again tonight. Or will be by the end of dinner if Rachel doesn’t cool it with the flirting. </em></p>
<p>Rachel’s hand falls to Chloe’s thigh and gives it a short squeeze before Rachel turns her head and totally nonchalantly starts chatting with Alyssa about how her rockstar goalie skills totally saved the day for the Ice Queens. “You’re hella like a ninja in net, damn!”</p>
<p>“Well, I wouldn’t have to save so much if you’d pass the fucking puck,” Alyssa deadpans.</p>
<p>“I would if they could keep up with me,” Rachel scoffs, casual as you please, as if her fingernails weren’t busy teasing at the inseam of Chloe’s jeans and working upwards. </p>
<p>Chloe keeps chewing and does her best to keep her face neutral. <em> A bathroom quickie with Rach might help get my mind off of Max… </em> Chloe risks a glance in Victoria’s direction. Tori is staring at Rachel with the intensity of a dying star and stabbing a garlic knot with a fork like it personally insulted her. <em> Then again, I kinda like the current arrangement of my face. Having my nose located in the middle rather than, say, plastered all the way across to the other fucking side is really convenient. </em></p>
<p>“A toast!” Dana suggests, raising her soda glass. “To a great team and, we hope, a killer season!”</p>
<p>“Hear, hear,” Steph concurs, raising her own glass. Most of the team lifts their glasses and toasts with varying degrees of enthusiasm.</p>
<p>Chloe feels fingers creeping even higher up her thigh and she almost spills her soda. Victoria is staring dead at her, looking like smoke is about to start boiling from her ears. Chloe clears her throat and tries not to blush. “Uh, yeah, great game, everyone.”</p>
<p>“We’ve definitely got some things to work on, but I think we’ve made excellent progress since last year. If we can keep improving, I think we’ll be really competitive this year,” Steph says, grabbing two slices of pizza and dumping one onto Chloe’s plate. “Especially with all of our kick-ass new recruits.”</p>
<p>“And hey, how about that reporter, huh?” chimes in Taylor.</p>
<p>“Who, Jules? She did some post-game interviews last year, didn’t she?” Alyssa asks.</p>
<p>“We had someone different in our changing room,” Dana puts in. “I guess they decided to divide and conquer.”</p>
<p>“Max,” Steph confirms. “She’s on my floor. She’s a photography major. A total sweetheart.”</p>
<p>“And a cutie,” Sandy puts in with a broad grin.</p>
<p>“I didn’t notice,” Brooke smirks. “Price was hogging her.”</p>
<p>Chloe’s ears flare red and she starts wolfing down her second slice to keep from having to say anything. </p>
<p>“Another ex-girlfriend, Price?”</p>
<p>“Or a <em> new </em> girlfriend?”</p>
<p><em> Fuck, when did it get so warm in here? </em> Luckily, Chloe can eat with one hand and flip the bird with the other. She’s well-practiced.</p>
<p>“Well, if you don’t want a piece of her, I might--”</p>
<p>“Whoa, hey,” Steph cuts in. “I’m her RA, alright? Go easy on the freshie.”</p>
<p>“Oooooooh, does <em> Gingrich </em>have a crush?”</p>
<p>“I’m her RA,” Steph repeats flatly, but her cheeks are turning pink and that makes Chloe’s vision blur. “I’m just looking out for her.”</p>
<p>Steph catches a few elbows to the ribs and some more joking and jostling, but the conversation soon drifts in other directions. </p>
<p>Once the spotlight is off of Steph, Chloe leans over her, reaching for a third slice. “Hey, didn’t you say you wanted to introduce me to some baby gay you thought I’d hit it off with? Was she a no-show or what?”</p>
<p>“Oh, uh. No, she showed up.”</p>
<p>“But--” Chloe cuts herself off to keep from choking on some pizza crust, her eyes bugging out of her head. “Holy shit, you mean <em> Max </em>?”</p>
<p><em> That can’t be right. Max was hella into all those boy bands and shit when we were kids. There’s no fucking way she’s gay! Although, I mean, she was turning pretty red in the locker room… But no, she’s always been a total prude about nudity. Remember how she almost fainted when you showed her that skin mag when she was twelve? She’s just stupidly easy to embarrass; that’s all. </em> “You’re crazy. Max is hella straight.”</p>
<p>“I mean, I wouldn’t normally just casually out someone like that, but Max is pretty out. She’s got a rainbow flag and a bi pride flag on her door. Pretty sure she was wearing her bi pride bracelet tonight, actually. And she never says much at them, but she’s been to a few LGBTQ+ Club meetings this semester. She just kinda hides behind one of her high school friends, but I think that’s more to do with being shy than with being in the closet.”</p>
<p>A chewed up pizza crust dangles limply from Chloe’s mouth. “...No shit?”</p>
<p>“No shit. Why would I lie to you about something like that?”</p>
<p>“Max. Max <em> Caulfield </em>.”</p>
<p>“Apparently.” Steph cringes a little. “Again, sorry about not putting two and two together sooner. I wouldn’t have sprung her on you like that if I’d realized she was <em> that </em>Max.”</p>
<p>
  <em> Oh my god. Holy fucking shit. Max likes girls. Oh no, oh fuck, oh shit, and I totally stripped in front of her like an idiot, oh god, why... </em>
</p>
<p>“Wait, wait, wait,” Rachel says, leaning in close enough that Chloe gets a noseful of her perfume and the familiar tickle of her hair against her neck. “What’s this about Chloe’s Max?”</p>
<p>“She’s not <em> my </em>Max,” Chloe grumbles poutily, chewing on her pizza crust. </p>
<p>Rachel props her arm on Chloe’s shoulder and leans into her space ostentatiously on the pretense of talking to Steph. Her drama-sense is clearly tingling. “Did the infamous Max Caulfield come back from the dead?? I can’t believe I missed it!”</p>
<p>“She’s a first-year living on my floor. She’s a sweet kid, actually.”</p>
<p>Chloe scoffs.</p>
<p>Steph picks at her pizza, looking sheepish. “Aaaaaannnd I kind of made the mistake of inviting her to today’s practice game without realizing who she was. So she ended up in the locker room after the game, and she and Chloe kinda… ran into each other.”</p>
<p>
  <em> ‘Ran into each other,’ ‘got naked in front of her.’ Tomayto, tomahto. </em>
</p>
<p>“Ooooooooooohhh,” Rachel croons delightedly. “That’s like something out of a Hallmark channel TV movie. Or a soap opera! So what was her excuse for ghosting you for four years? Was she in a coma? Had she been kidnapped by her own evil twin?”</p>
<p>“We didn’t really get that far,” Chloe admits. “We mostly just talked about hockey and shit.”</p>
<p>“Oh,” Rachel says, disappointed. “Well, we’re only a couple of weeks into the semester. Plenty of time for you two to catch up.” She reaches over and picks up a french fry from the basket and holds it up in front of Chloe’s mouth.</p>
<p>Kinda awkward with Tori right there, but whatever. Chloe likes french fries and she likes Rach. She opens her mouth and lets Rachel feed her.</p>
<p>“I’m stepping out for a smoke,” Victoria says abruptly from across the table.</p>
<p>With Rachel leaning on her shoulder, Rachel’s breasts pressed softly against her upper arm, the smell of Rachel’s hair overloading her senses, and greasy french fries being popped into her mouth at regular intervals, Chloe doesn’t pay much attention to Victoria’s exit.</p>
<p>After a minute, Rachel gives Chloe’s thigh a parting squeeze. “Excuse me,” she says as she rises from the table. “Ladies room.”</p>
<p>Chloe lets her attention drift back to the conversation at the table as Dana gets into it with Sandy.</p>
<p>“You really need to cut out the cross checking; it’s just a friendly!”</p>
<p>Sandy laughs and waggles a bit of crust at Dana. “It’s <em> practice, </em> luv! You’re supposed to play like you would a real game.”</p>
<p>Dana groans and rolls her eyes. “So you’re going to be out there <em> trying </em> to get penalties?”</p>
<p>“What the refs don’t see won’t hurt us, luv.” Sandy winks and Dana just rolls her eyes before huffing in annoyance. “Besides, the real problem is that we need to get Vic and Rach to stop fuckin’ and start passin’.”</p>
<p>“Great job in net, Alyssa,” Taylor says with a smile, redirecting the conversation.</p>
<p>True to form, Alyssa’s face is placid as she deadpans, “What can I say, I’m used to people throwing things at me.”</p>
<p>Taylor flinches a bit and stares intently at her pizza. “I’m still sorry about that.”</p>
<p>A slight smirk graces Alyssa’s face. “And I told you I forgive you.”</p>
<p>“God, get a fucking room you two,” Courtney grumbles only for Taylor to give her a swift elbow.</p>
<p><em> This is so not my fucking problem. </em> Chloe glances at her phone. <em> Enough time has passed so I’m not being suspicious as fuck, right? Yeah, totally. </em>Chloe pushes back her chair and makes her own excuses. She can feel Steph’s eyes on her as she makes her way to the bathroom, not judging but concerned. But dammit, she’s had a long day and a weird ass evening and she deserves a bit of no-strings fun. As long as she and Rachel are both playing by the rules, it usually turns out fine. The only real problem was when they were trying to actually date each other. Being good friends who occasionally bone down works much better for them.</p>
<p>Chloe pushes open the door to the ladies room and pokes her head in. Rachel’s there, alright, but she’s already got Tori pressed up against the tampon machine, making out with her like Tori’s got buried treasure in her tonsils. <em> Aaaaaaaaaand they’re back on again, I guess. </em> Chloe nopes out of there quietly, only mildly disappointed. Victoria’s hot and all, but Chloe has definitely learned enough to want no part of whatever mess those two have going on these days. It reminds her too much of when she and Rachel were trying to make a real go of it, only even more toxic and destructive. And getting involved with both once was enough, thank you very fucking much.</p>
<p>“I think I’m gonna head out, actually,” Chloe tells Steph when she returns to the table. She throws a few bills down so nobody complains and grabs her coat and hat.</p>
<p>“You want some company?” Steph asks. She’s quiet about it but a couple of the other players nearby pick up on her phrasing and start oohing and waggling eyebrows.</p>
<p>Back in the day, Chloe would say no. She’d go off and find some corner to sulk in, half-drown herself in a bottle of cheap booze and stew fruitlessly over Max’s unceremonious return. “Company would be good,” she admits. “Maybe a bad movie and some beer?”</p>
<p>“I’ve got both in my car. I’ll follow you over.”</p>
<p>“Cool.” Chloe waves to the general group. “Night, everyone.”</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Max isn’t dissociating as she walks into her dorm, this feels nothing like that, but it’s about the closest thing she can use to label the otherworldly floating sensation she’s experiencing. The main difference is that it’s… nice. She isn’t escaping soul crushing despair or waiting for her meltdown to crash into her like a tidal surge.</p>
<p>Instead she’s floating along like a hot air balloon, breathlessly replaying the memories of her encounter with Chloe. <em> “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” </em> Part of her wishes she’d taken Chloe up on the obvious teasing, but that would have been… look, she’ll get to photography of nude models some day, okay? Not that she needs a camera to remember what had happened; you don’t just <em> forget </em>your childhood best friend and first crush all grown up into a fit as fuck athlete stripping in front of you.</p>
<p>
  <em> I still can’t believe it was her, like actually her. It’s like a dream just seeing her again. I was sure she’d hate me and want to, like, bite my head off but she was… actually kind nice. I mean, she didn’t bite my head off, so maybe she doesn’t hate me as much as I always thought she did? It sounds like she had a really rough time after I moved; I’m just glad she had someone there for her. </em>
</p>
<p><em> Or still there for her? It really sounded like those two are… </em> <em> together </em> <em> together. </em></p>
<p>Heat rises up her cheeks as her mind wanders before she smacks a palm against her forehead. <em> Come on, dork, get your head back in the game; you’ve got to get ready to see Kate for your tea date. You don’t have time to get lost in lalaland anymore about how insanely hot Chloe is now! </em></p>
<p>Her mind catches on the word ‘date.’ If someone had asked her a week ago if she was interested in being more than friends with Kate, she might have blurted out a garbled version of maybe yes, she was just so special it felt like dating was what she was supposed to do. But now?</p>
<p>
  <em> Thinking about Kate doesn’t make me feel so… I don’t know. Oh, I was never good at this on my own, but it’s not like I can talk to anybody about this! Well… maybe Steph? She’s been nothing but nice to me and she seems to know a lot about this stuff. Although if she and Chloe are still a thing, that might be really awkward... </em>
</p>
<p>She walks into the bathroom she shares with Kate to splash some water over her somehow still entirely too warm face. <em> Come on, Kate’s class is done soon, then you’re going to sit down, have tea and you can think about what it is you're feeling as you’re feeling it. </em></p>
<p>
  <em> But wowser, those abs… I wonder what they feel like to touch? She could probably just pick me up like I’m nothing… And the rest of her… I… maybe I could convince the profs to get the team to do some nude modelling for life drawing?  </em>
</p>
<p>She shakes her head vigorously, trying to disperse the multiplying thoughts of Chloe posing for her in increasingly provocative ways, that old impish smile on her face. Despite the cold water still dripping from her chin, her face burns hot, and warmth blooms in her core as her heart pounds like a timpani. <em> Oh… Oh this is really bad. I thought I had a crush on her before, but this is…  </em></p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Chloe loves her student apartment. It’s the first place she’s lived since her dad died that’s really felt like home.</p>
<p>It’s technically on-campus, but it’s about as far away as you can get from the dorm complexes where she spent her first two years. She doesn’t have to share her tiny, shitty kitchen space with half a dozen other students, most of whom don’t know how to use a range without setting off the fire alarm. Nobody nags her about her laundry piling up or her unconventional taste in interior decor (boobs, hockey, punk bands, boobs, cult classic movie posters, and more boobs), and as long as she remembers to stash it in her closet during monthly room inspections she can get away with leaving her bong out in the living room without worrying about anybody messing with it or ratting her out. She still has to watch her ass if she’s going to play her music loudly or just generally be her usual loudmouth self, because the walls are thin as fuck (she’s heard her neighbor across the way faking orgasms while banging her boyfriend more times than she cares to think about, but they’ve heard her and her partners being loud as fuck as fair’s fair), but overall it’s a major step up from living in the dorms. And it’s worlds away from living in Arcadia Bay. It took her more than a year of being away before she stopped feeling like David was about to bust down her door every time she let her guard down for a second. </p>
<p><em> If step-dick saw me now, he’d have an fucking aneurysm on the spot </em> , she thinks with a reflexive twinge as she pulls a much-needed beer from her fridge. There’s a dull thump through the thin wall dividing her apartment from her neighbor’s and her muscles immediately tense, shoulders jumping up to her ears as she waits for the inevitable sound of David’s voice yelling at her about everything she’s done wrong today. <em> “What do you think you’re doin’ with that beer, girl? Don’t you think you’ve given your mother enough trouble without turning into the town drunk on top of being the village bicycle and a dropout?” </em></p>
<p>Chloe shudders and forces her shoulders back down as she goes through her exercises. Tongue off the roof of her mouth, unclench her jaw, chin up, roll her shoulders back and unball her fists. <em> It’s safe. I’m safe. He isn’t really here. </em>She breathes in deep and lets it out slow, willing her breath steady. </p>
<p>“Fucking shit,” she mutters to herself, shaking her head like bad memories are only water in the ear. “Been a while.” She takes a second to flip off the step-douche in her head (and her brain for letting him in), then grabs a second beer out of the fridge for Steph and heads for the living room area. <em> Thought all that shit was dead and buried; I haven’t had a flashback in months. Guess that’s something else to talk about with Toya at our next session. Hooray… Like I didn’t have enough going on already with Max showing up out of the blue. </em></p>
<p>Chloe sets Steph’s beer on the low coffee table before collapsing onto her stiff, university-issue couch and kicking her feet up. She cracks the top off her beer bottle with the bottle-opener ring Rachel got for her twenty-first birthday and takes a deep swig. <em> ‘Course with Steph coming over I probably won’t have to wait til next week to spill my guts about Max. She’s like a dog with a bone whenever I’m fucked up about something, I fucking swear... </em></p>
<p>Right on cue, there’s a knock on the door. It sounds as close to the theme from Skyrim as knocking on a door can sound. <em> Speak of the nerd and she shall appear. </em></p>
<p>“It’s open!” Chloe calls. She always leaves it unlocked when she knows Steph is coming over, and Steph always knocks anyway because she knows Chloe’s got a bad history of boundaries being crossed. It’s part of the reason why they’re still best friends even after their break-up.</p>
<p>Steph enters, locking the door behind her. She leans over the couch and gives Chloe a quick kiss on the cheek. She drops a grease-stained paper bag onto the coffee table, sets down a six-pack of some pretentious IPA beside it, and plops down next to Chloe. “I grabbed some extra garlic knots for you.”</p>
<p>“You’re the best,” Chloe enthuses as she reaches for the greasy bag. Cold garlic knots aren’t as good as hot garlic knots, but they’re a fuckload better than no garlic knots at all. She pops one of the oily little miracles into her mouth and closes her eyes with pleasure. Three slices of pizza post-practice isn’t nearly enough to satisfy her stomach; if she hadn’t been so distracted by the weirdness of seeing Max again she would’ve eaten half a pie by herself.</p>
<p>“I know I am,” Steph says smugly, picking up the beer Chloe left out for her and pulling a bottle opener from the multitool she always keeps attached to a carabiner clip on her jeans to open it. “And because I’m the best, I brought you options.” She unzips her backpack and starts pulling out bootleg movies and video games. “You want to watch some mindless trash or smash the crap out of some baddies?”</p>
<p>“Ooh, smashing shit sounds good.” </p>
<p>“Then smash we shall.” Steph gets the console and game set up while Chloe snickers at her phrasing and eats another garlic knot. “So,” Steph says as she shoves a controller into Chloe’s hands, “are we going to talk about it like adults, or are you going to do that thing where you pretend there’s nothing to talk about until I drag it out of you?”</p>
<p>Chloe sighs heavily. <em> Dammit, Steph, can’t I at least get actually drunk before you try to get me to talk about my feelings?? </em> “Can we at least play a bit first? I’m just… still processing, okay?”</p>
<p>Steph nods, kicking off her sneakers and tucking her socked feet under Chloe’s thigh. “That’s fair. But you do agree that there’s shit to talk about, yes?”</p>
<p>Chloe rolls her eyes. “Yes, <em> doctor </em>. I acknowledge the fact that weird shit happened today and that the healthy thing to do is to address it rather than bottling it up until I explode. But can I please do some unhealthy shit first? I just wanna chill and cause some digital chaos and maybe get medium drunk.”</p>
<p>Steph twists her mouth in mild disapproval, but she nods her head. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”</p>
<p>Chloe needs an hour of video games, the first twenty minutes of a staggeringly bad movie, the rest of her beer plus two of Steph’s IPAs, and all of the remaining garlic knots before she’s ready to start talking. “It’s like, I mean…” Chloe’s eyes search the cracks in the ceiling like they’re looking for the right words as Steph cradles her head in her lap and strokes her hair comfortingly. “A huge part of my life the last few years has been, like… accepting that she’s gone. That I’ll never see her or talk to her or be friends with her again.” Chloe tilts her head back a little farther, meeting Steph’s attentive eyes. “And now here she is. Going to <em> my </em> college. Living on <em> your </em>floor. Showing up at my fucking hockey practice.”</p>
<p>Steph nods sagely. She brushes stray strands of lilac hair from Chloe’s forehead. “Are you mad that she was there?”</p>
<p>“I…” Chloe huffs, conflicted. “I don’t know? I’ve really <em> missed </em>her, you know?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Steph murmurs, “I know, I remember.”</p>
<p>“Like…” Chloe frowns. She rolls onto her side and fumbles for the remote, pausing the movie so she can focus her thoughts better. “I think… maybe I’ve missed her more than I’ve let myself believe. Seeing her again… It’s just, I <em> really </em>thought this wound was closed.” Antsy, she gets up and starts pacing the floor. She always thinks better when she’s in motion. Steph tucks her feet up on the couch and watches her patiently as she attempts to work through her messy, tangled thoughts and feelings. “I thought that it was all healed up and just a little scar was left.” Chloe taps her chest. “But seeing her again, it feels like it’s been ripped open again. Like my heart’s bleeding over her all over again.”</p>
<p>Chloe sniffs, sensing the beginning of tears. <em> Fuck. Nope. No, thank you. Not tonight. Not over Max. Music. Music helps. </em>She starts flipping through her open CD binder next to her battered stereo - her dad’s, one of the few things she bothered packing up from her old house. “Sometimes I feel like I’m still the same fucked up fourteen-year-old she left behind, you know? Like, I thought I grew up and got over this shit, but maybe I’ve just been lying to myself.”</p>
<p>“Six years is a long time,” Steph says thoughtfully. “You have changed a lot. You’ve grown a lot. When you were fourteen, you definitely wouldn’t have touched this conversation with a ten foot pole.”</p>
<p>“Mm,” Chloe grunts, flipping through page after page of mix CDs. <em> Rachel Songs? Not tonight; that’s a whole other headache. Steph’s Super Gay Mix? Wrong vibe for where my head’s at, though I’m definitely feeling gay as fuck.  </em></p>
<p>“I’m proud of you for getting to this point, by the way. Especially these last couple years.”</p>
<p>“Hmph.” <em> Pirate Power? Fuck. God fucking damn it. Yup, that’s the one. </em> She slips the CD out of its protective sleeve and pops it into the stereo system.</p>
<p>“Anyway, what I’m saying is: you’ve grown a lot, so maybe she has, too.”</p>
<p>The all-too-familiar music starts playing and Chloe slumps onto the floor, feeling like a nerve that’s been scraped raw. “Maybe,” she admits. “But do I <em> want </em>her to have changed?”</p>
<p>“Only one way to find out.”</p>
<p>Chloe only realizes that she’s sniffling when Steph stands up and reaches for her, pulling her into her arms. Chloe goes softly. “I don’t know who she is anymore,” Chloe mumbles into Steph’s collarbone as Steph eases them both back onto the couch. “Is she the same dorky kid I used to play pirates with? The same kid I used to have to protect from bullies all the time?” She rubs her nose so it doesn’t drip onto Steph’s shirt. “The same kid who fucking <em> abandoned </em>me after Dad died?”</p>
<p>Steph rubs a soothing hand gently up and down Chloe’s back. Chloe burrows into the familiar comfort of letting Steph calm her down when she’s confused and crying. </p>
<p>“I just don’t know if I can trust her again,” Chloe confesses in a trembling voice. “She already fucking broke my heart once. I don’t know if I can take that again.”</p>
<p>“I get that,” Steph says gently, stroking Chloe’s hair and tucking it behind her ear. “Believe me, I do.”</p>
<p>Chloe shuts her eyes and focuses on the easy rhythm of Steph’s heartbeat playing under the nostalgic music. How many nights has she fallen asleep just like this in her life, crying herself into exhaustion in Steph’s arms? Chloe pushes out a shaky laugh. “She did grow up hella cute, though. Fuckin’ called that shit when I was, like, thirteen.”</p>
<p>Steph tweaks her ear and chuckles affectionately. “I’m sure you did.”</p>
<p>Chloe swats her hand away, then sighs and relaxes into the cuddle. Between the beer and the coziness, she’s starting to feel warm and fuzzy and more than a little sleepy. “So… What should I do?”</p>
<p>“I can’t tell you what to do, Chlo. But you two are going to be on the same campus for at least two years, and she’s going to be living on my floor until the end of this year, so it would be good if you were on speaking terms.”</p>
<p>“Hey, I was perfectly civil to her today!” <em> Also naked. And kinda flirty. Which probably crosses the line of “civil.” </em></p>
<p>“And I’m very proud of you for that.” Steph pats her shoulder. “Maybe wear more clothes next time you talk to her, though.”</p>
<p>Chloe groans. “You <em> would </em> bring that up,” she grumbles. “It was the fucking changing room! I was <em> changing </em>!”</p>
<p>“Mhm. No ulterior motives, I’m sure.”</p>
<p>“Speaking of getting naked…” Chloe teases a finger under the hem of Steph’s t-shirt hopefully. “You down to fool around tonight?”</p>
<p>Steph thinks about Chloe’s question for longer than she normally does. “Don’t take this as a rejection,” Steph starts, which is never a particularly inspiring beginning to a sentence, “but I don’t think that’s a great idea tonight.”</p>
<p>Chloe digs through her mildly wounded pride for her sense of humor. “Why not? Still too sore from last night?”</p>
<p>“I mean, my back <em> is </em>still twinging a little, but that might be from the game. No, I just mean…” Steph chews her lip thoughtfully. Chloe pulls back a little to try to get a read on her expression and to give her a little breathing space. “Maybe this is out of line, but… You just reconnected with Max today. A girl who you’ve told me however many hundreds of times was your first crush, and who you spent a good portion of your life mooning over. And you’ve already said you think she grew up cute. So I’m just concerned that…” She scrunches her face. “Um. That you might not be in the right headspace to be hooking up with someone while you’re dealing with fresh and unresolved feelings for someone else.”</p>
<p>Chloe’s first impulse is, as usual, to feel slighted and get her rage on. <em>What the fuck is that supposed to mean?? </em>She recognizes the anger, acknowledges it, and releases it. She takes a deep, grounding breath and lets it out slowly, contemplating the truth of Steph’s words. <em>Shit… Steph’s got a point</em>. <em>If we fooled around tonight, I can’t guarantee that I wouldn’t be thinking about Max on some level. That’s not fair to Steph. Or to Max. Or, hell, even to myself.</em> “Yeah, you’re probably right.”</p>
<p>“We can keep cuddling, though. I don’t have to be back at the dorms until ten.”</p>
<p>“Well, thank fuck for that.” </p>
<p>---</p>
<p>Max drifts in a haze as the tingles in her body and the spots in her eyes slowly fade away. Her breathing has steadied itself but she still feels flushed and warm. <em> Whoa, I haven’t felt the need to do that in… I don’t even remember. </em></p>
<p>With a deep breath she slowly relaxes the muscles in her legs and reaches out for the water bottle by her bed, drinking greedily before setting it back down with a satisfied sigh. <em> I mean, it’s not like I didn’t use to think about her like… that. But now? I… </em> Max frowns, some of her relaxation ebbing away as her anxiety starts to flow back in. <em> Was this okay? I mean, she did get naked right in front of me, and that ‘take a picture’ comment… Was she flirting with me or just trying to sass? I mean, I did used to think about her, like, a lot, which definitely didn’t help with keeping in touch. How the hell do you say ‘hey, sorry I moved and your dad died but I have, like, a mega crush on you’? Did she think of me like that, too? It sounds like she really needed me after I moved. But she didn’t seem too angry, right? </em></p>
<p>A pang in her bladder brings her back to the present reality. <em> Ugh, get up, Max; you know the drill. Come on legs, don’t fail me now. </em></p>
<p>There’s a slight wobble, but she manages to make her way to the bathroom. It’s as she’s taking care of business that Kate knocks on her side of the door with their secret knock for tea time. <em> Crap! I totally lost track of time. </em> “I’ll be ready in a couple of minutes!”</p>
<p>“Okay, Max,” Kate calls back through the door, “your room or mine?”</p>
<p>“Mine, if you don’t mind.” <em> I’ll have to air it out really quick. </em></p>
<p>“Sounds good! Just knock on my door when you’re ready.”</p>
<p>Max finishes up in the bathroom, pausing only to wash her hands and quickly change into pajamas before throwing her window open and parking her desk fan in front of the window on full blast.</p>
<p>She gives it a couple of minutes before resetting her fan, leaving the window open a crack before she goes and gives Kate the knock.</p>
<p>Kate opens the door, full of smiles and bright cheer that chase away the anxieties that had bubbled up out of the haze of her earlier bliss. Just being around Kate is like being wrapped in a warm weighted blanket, and it’s almost startling to Max how fast she’s taken to enjoying having Kate in her personal space. Only one other person in her life managed to get there so fast, and she’s got blue hair now.<em> And muscles. So many muscles. </em></p>
<p>“Max?” Kate gently asks as she sets down her teapot on Max’s desk.</p>
<p>“Oh, sorry.” Max winces, “I was kinda spacing out.”</p>
<p>“That’s alright, I was just asking you how your interviews went.” <em> Even when I accidentally ignore her, Kate is still kind and accommodating. She really is the perfect friend. </em></p>
<p>“They, um…” Max runs her fingers through her hair as she tries to push images of Chloe’s abs out of her mind and find the best way to phrase it. “It didn’t go as I expected it to.”</p>
<p>“How so? Also, would you like chamomile or ginger?”</p>
<p>“Chamomile please. And it turns out one of the players is someone I knew a long, long time ago.” Max does her best not to fidget as she sits in her desk chair so that Kate can enjoy the couch.</p>
<p>“Oh, well that really is unexpected.” Kate gets the kettle going and settles in on the couch. “May I ask who?”</p>
<p>Max nods and can’t help but drum her fingers on her thighs. “Chloe Price.”</p>
<p>“Wait, you know Chloe?” Kate’s eyebrows shoot up. “I didn’t know you were from Arcadia.”</p>
<p>Max blinks in surprise. Even though Rose City University is only a couple of hours away from Arcadia Bay, she wasn’t expecting anyone to have heard of the small town. “I- Yeah. We moved to Seattle from there when I was thirteen. How do you…?”</p>
<p>“I grew up there, too,” Kate says with an almost apologetic smile. “Sort of. My family lives in a very… <em> private </em>part of Arcadia. I never really got to interact with the rest of the town until I was practically an adult.” She softly touches the already neatly arranged tea cups, straightening them. “So,” she says with brightness that seems a little forced, “You and Chloe knew each other?”</p>
<p>Max nods nervously. “We were best friends.” <em> Understatement of the year. </em> “Totally inseparable. But then her dad died right as I moved away and I… didn’t stay in touch.”</p>
<p>“I suppose it <em> is </em> a small world after all,” Kate says softly. Shifting in her seat, Max watches Kate’s face for the judgement she deserves for the mess she made. Instead, Kate’s expression dampens a bit but remains soft. “I’m sure you had your reasons. Being there for someone experiencing a tragedy like that right after moving away would be difficult for anyone.”</p>
<p>“Y-yeah. She probably hates me for what I did and was just being polite.”</p>
<p>Kate covers her mouth and stifles a soft giggle. “Are you sure we’re talking about the same Chloe Price? Every time I’ve seen her not like someone, she makes sure they <em> know </em>.”</p>
<p>Sensing a chance to learn more about the years she wasn’t there, Max can’t help but ask, “Did you know her? Before college I mean?”</p>
<p>“I can’t say I knew her really well. Mostly by reputation at first. I heard about the accident through my mother gossiping with her church friends, and before long I heard a lot about ‘the Price girl’ getting into trouble, but I didn’t actually meet her until I started attending Blackwell as a sophomore. And even then, it was mostly from a distance. She was… kinda scary. Blue hair, piercings, tank tops showing off her bra, smoking, and always looking like she was getting into fights. I’ll admit I judged a book by her cover at first and shied away.”</p>
<p>“Wait, wait,” Max holds up her hands, wishing she could rewind the conversation to fully digest every detail. “She was getting into fights? I mean, she used to defend me from bullies but I don’t remember her picking fights.”</p>
<p>“She, um…” Kate scratches the top of her head for a moment, causing her hair to cascade in a way that makes Max feel a little warm and fuzzy despite the topic at hand. “She had black eyes a <em> lot </em> that first year. I saw Steph and Rachel helping her cover them up with makeup in the dorms or by the smoker corner pretty frequently.”</p>
<p>Her stomach twists at the idea of Chloe getting beaten up so badly so regularly. <em> What on earth happened when I was gone? I don’t remember her being anything like that, but I guess pain changes people… </em> “You said ‘at first.’”</p>
<p>“Oh, yes. After I started getting involved with bake sales for the hockey team, we started talking and she was a bit standoffish at first. I don’t think she’s a big fan of my faith and I can’t say I blame her. A lot of people weren’t, and they… they weren’t always very kind about it. But once Chloe got to know me it was like she adopted me or something. She started calling me cinnamon bun or cinnamon roll!” Kate shakes her head as she giggles. “Don’t let all the tattoos and piercings fool you, she’s really very sweet when she lets herself be. After that, people just stopped messing with me.”</p>
<p><em> Yeah, that definitely sounds a lot more like the Chloe I remember. </em>“I can’t believe people were bullying you, you’re probably the kindest person I’ve ever met.”</p>
<p>The kettle clicks off and Kate puts the bags of tea into the pot before pouring in the water. “I think some people were going to pick on me for my faith no matter what I did. Victoria, she’s also on the team--” Kate pauses, suddenly caught by a thought. “Actually, a lot of our players here used to play for Blackwell. Huh. Anyway, Victoria used to be particularly vicious but I never understood why. My first day there, she saw my cross necklace and exploded. I’ll never forget the anger in her eyes, it was… intense. Once Chloe got involved she mellowed out, although I think Rachel also had a hand in that, since they started officially dating around that time.”</p>
<p>“Wowsers, it sounds like a lot of people on the team are dating.” <em> Or at least more than friends… </em></p>
<p>“That’s putting it mildly. Right now, though, I think the only steady couple is Taylor and Alyssa. Rachel and Victoria seem to break up every other week. The rest of them…” Kate’s face flushes a little red. “Well, I’m not going to judge.”</p>
<p>“O-oh.” Max says with a nod as she feels her own cheeks heating up a bit. “So, um, how was your day? Aside from the hockey stuff, I mean.”</p>
<p>“Apart from my intro to psych lecture it was pretty good. But there’s this one boy in that class, he tried to correct the professor.”</p>
<p>“Oh no, why would he do that!” Max groans.</p>
<p>“I’m so glad you asked!” Kate says with a bright laugh that sends pleasing tingles over Max’s scalp. “See, he’d been doing research for ‘alternative facts’.”</p>
<p>Max rolls her eyes at his idiocy and nods along as Kate launches into the story of what could charitably be called a debate with such mirth that she can’t not be absorbed by the tale. Her worries ebb away and Chloe slips from her mind as she focuses on Kate’s smile and her amused tone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rain &amp; Ghost: Would you look at that, a new chapter! The plan is to try and get out a new chapter at least once a month. We hope you all enjoy it and let us know what you think in the comments!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. First Steps</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Fists fly, feelings are discussed, and friends are consulted.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Breath hisses through Chloe’s teeth as each punch lands. Jab. Cross. Hook. Reset.</p><p>Jab, jab. Cross. Reset.</p><p>The impacts jar up her arm with the heavy, satisfying sound of fists smacking against the bag.</p><p>Cross. Hook. Uppercut. Reset.</p><p>Chloe bounces on the balls of her feet, keeping light until she explodes into another combination. Jab, jab. Cross. Uppercut. Reset.</p><p>She circles, breathing hard, guard up, waiting a few beats before going again. Cross. Hook. Cross. Uppercut. Reset.</p><p>“Daaaaamn Chloe,” teases Rachel, her face poking from behind the bag. “Seeing Max again has you hella riled up, huh?”</p><p>Chloe wipes the rivulets of sweat from her brow with a gloved hand. She knows working out with Rachel always means she’s going to overdo it, but today she doesn’t mind. Between the flashbacks from last night and this morning when her alarm had made her panic, and the other noise in her head that having Max around again had unleashed, she needs to vent. To hurt. “Something like that.”</p><p>“The fucking audacity though, just waltzing in like that.” Rachel braces the bag again and Chloe takes the invitation. Her mind’s eye puts a stupid fucking mustache on the bag. Cross. Cross. Hook. Uppercut. Knee. Reset.</p><p>“Steph invited her, I don’t think she knew.” Chloe rolls her shoulders a few times, letting the burning fade away for a moment as she dances around the bag.</p><p>“Still though, the least she could have done is said something in the what… 6, 7 years?” Rachel drums her fingers on the bag as they circle. “No, ‘hey Chloe, how are you? Oh, what, your stepdick is an abusive creep? Come run away with me to Seattle.’”</p><p>She launches herself into the bag, taking a break from punching. Elbow, knee, knee, knee. “Never woulda fucking happened. Her dad was cool if kinda dopey, but her mom had a major stick up her ass. Besides, you’d have missed me.”</p><p>Rachel laughs and braces the bag again as Chloe delivers a vicious side kick. “More like Steph would have. You two were so fucking cute together. Plus you living in her basement was pretty awesome. I still can’t get over that you two totally U-hauled in <em> highschool </em>.”</p><p>“It was pretty awesome of her parents.” Chloe keeps her leg up and gets into a combination of kicks. Roundhouse. Roundhouse. Side.</p><p>“So what are you going to do, just let her waltz back into your life like she didn’t fucking drop <em> the </em> Chloe Price like a rock when you needed her most?”</p><p>Chloe rolls her eyes a bit; Rachel being jealous of Max was old hat when they were 16.</p><p>She’s not entirely wrong, though. “I don’t fucking know. I literally learned she was here like maybe twelve hours ago. I just thought I was done with her, you know? I was getting close to more years without her than with her and figured ‘that was that’ and just…”</p><p>Her mind’s eye puts David’s face on the bag again and she throws her weight into a series of sidekicks that makes Rachel stagger back a pace.</p><p>“And just what does that bitch think she’s doing?” Rachel volunteers as she resets.</p><p>“She’s just being Max; it’s not her fault she’s knocking a bunch of shit loose again.” Chloe switches up her stance and brings the other leg to bear for a flurry of roundhouses into that stupid mustache.</p><p>Rachel motions for her to stop, her normal cockiness and playful smirk dropping away for a look of genuine concern. “Chloe…”</p><p>“I’m not… I’m not back in <em> that </em> place, okay? You and Steph would be the first to know. I just…. I had a dream about Dad again.” She sighs, waving a hand at Rachel to get her to hold the bag again. “And Sgt. Douchebag shit is coming back up.”</p><p>“You sure you’re okay? We can stop.”</p><p>Chloe goes to raise her fists, but David’s ugly mug is gone. Instead it’s Max’s freckled face, all flushed and dopey from the changing room. She can’t get the dumbstruck look in those big blue eyes out of her head. “Sure, fuck it, I’ll hold the bag. I’m sure you’ve got stupid shit with Vicky to get out of your system.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“You should just nail her.”</p><p>“<em>Kristen</em>!” Max slaps her pen down onto her open notebook. It’s true that Max was hoping to get a different perspective on the whole Chloe situation when she spent a considerable portion of their regular study session venting about it. But this is not the perspective she had in mind, and now that Kristen’s words are ringing in her ears she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to focus on her studying again with her cheeks burning. </p><p>“What? Dude, you’ve been doodling cartoon hearts all over your notebook for the past hour.” Kristen gestures to Max’s notebook, and, okay, she maybe has a point. There are definitely more cartoon hearts than notes on her pages right now, and some of those hearts definitely have her and Chloe’s initials in them. </p><p><em> Dammit, I didn’t even notice I was doing that. Good god, it’s like middle school all over again. </em> Max blushes and flips her notebook closed as if that’ll erase the incriminating evidence from existence.</p><p>“Clearly, you can’t focus on anything but Chloe right now. So bang her and get her out of your system.” Kristen flips a long lock of dark hair back over her shoulder and shrugs casually, as if she just suggested that Max should try a new shampoo rather than suggesting she should have sex with her former best friend who almost definitely hates her.</p><p>Fernando rolls his eyes and caps his highlighter with a heavy sigh. “Kris, sex is <em> not </em>the solution to everything.”</p><p>“No,” Kristen concedes, “but it could well be the solution to Max’s ridiculous lady-boner.”</p><p>“I-buh-wha--” Max sputters wordlessly, unable to string syllables together into a coherent protest. Her face burns red and her stomach flips. </p><p>Fernando taps his highlighter against his chin thoughtfully. “Y’know… I know Kristen is being excessively crass because, well, she’s Kristen, but she might actually have a point.”</p><p>Max’s eyes bulge. “I am <em> not </em>going to just--”</p><p>“No, no, not about, uh, doing anything ‘<em>intimate’  </em>with Chloe. That’s definitely a terrible idea; you two only just reconnected after all these years and you should absolutely talk, like, a <em> lot </em> before you even <em> consider </em>doing anything more, ah, physical.” </p><p>Kristen harumphs and mouths the word, “Boring.”</p><p>Fernando gives Kristen a warning look, then turns back to Max gently. “I just meant, like… The way you talk about Chloe is totally different from how you’ve talked about any other crush you’ve ever told us about. I mean, just look at how you talk about Kate. You talk about her a lot but it’s always about how awesome a friend she is. Not… this.”</p><p>Kristen nods. “You are thirsting <em> hard </em>, girl.”</p><p>Max picks at her severely chewed pen cap. “The way I feel about Chloe is definitely <em> different </em> ,” she admits. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way about anyone else before.” <em> I’ve definitely never felt this kind of </em> <b> <em>desire </em> </b> <em> before. I’ve seen plenty of naked people in locker rooms before, and I’ve never felt like </em> <b> <em>that </em> </b> <em> about them.   </em></p><p>“Like, I know we’ve talked about this stuff before, but…” Fernando looks like he’s choosing his words carefully. “Like. Okay. You know I’m totally ace and everything. And I know for a while in high school you were kinda, like… questioning if you might be the same way.”</p><p>Max nods. “I was feeling pretty sure about it by graduation. I kept getting crushes, but as soon as it felt like there might be any chance of something physical happening…” She shrugs her shoulders. </p><p>“Yeah. The way you talked about crushes or even dates, it never sounded… physical. Like, you might think someone was cute, but you never sounded like you wanted to, well, have sex with them. But the way you’ve been talking about Chloe...”</p><p>“Like I said,” Kristen cuts in, “the thirst is <em> real</em>. I always thought if you ever met Chloe again, you’d be going on about playing pirates and shit like you did when we met you. But you practically wrote a fucking love sonnet about her rock-hard quads as soon as we sat down at this table. You want to <em> nail </em>that chick.”</p><p>Fernando nods, the traitor. “It really does sound like you want to sleep with Chloe, Max. Or that you’re, at the very least, seriously attracted to her.”</p><p>Max groans, sinking back in her chair with her hands covering her face. This is the last thing she needs. “I <em> can’t</em>,” she protests. “I’m ace; I’m not even supposed to be feeling this way. And she’s <em> Chloe </em>.”</p><p>“I mean, maybe that’s why you’re feeling this way about her,” Fernando suggests. “Ace is a spectrum, you know, not a black or white thing. Maybe you’re just on a different part of the spectrum than you thought. Like, if you’re demi or something, that might be why you feel sexually attracted to Chloe even if you’re not attracted to anyone else that way. You were best friends for most of your childhood; you’ve already got this strong emotional connection to her.”</p><p>“I can’t,” Max repeats, feeling slightly hysterical. “Even if I wanted to act on these feelings - and I don’t even know if I do - there’s absolutely no way that she would want to. It’s just… too complicated. I <em> hurt </em>her. I don’t think I’ve ever hurt anyone as badly as I hurt her.”</p><p>Kristen sighs and closes her textbook. “Okay. Let me recap the situation. You reunited with your long-lost childhood best friend and crush, she’s now a mega-hottie with buns of steel, she stripped completely naked in front of you within minutes of you two reconnecting, you’re pretty sure you’re ace but you’re also pretty sure you wanna tap that, and also you’ve got weird feelings about each other because you ghosted her for years and probably broke both of your hearts by doing so.” She spreads her hands. “If you want my advice, you should fuck about it.”</p><p>Max faceplants into her notebook. “That’s not helpful advice.”</p><p>Fernando touches Max’s shoulder lightly. “If you want <em> my </em>advice, you should talk about it.”</p><p>“My advice is more fun,” Kristen interjects.</p><p>Max lets out a groan of despair. “Those both sound equally impossible.”</p><p>Fernando squeezes Max’s shoulder. “I know it’s hard. But you obviously really care about her. You always have. And you’ve always regretted not staying in touch with her. Now fate has thrown you back into each other’s lives. What else are you going to do? Try to ignore her for the next four years?”</p><p>“More like three years,” Max corrects, her voice muffled by her notebook. “She’s older than we are.”</p><p>“Max, no,” Kristen pleads. “<em>Please </em> don’t hide from her for three years. She sounds really cool; I don’t want you to not be able to do anything fun for the first three years of college because you’re hiding from your crush.”</p><p>“Also,” Fernando puts in, “hiding isn’t healthy for either of you. If nothing else, you want your friend back, right?”</p><p>Max peers up from the table to look Fernando in the eyes. “Yeah. I really, really do.”</p><p>He smiles and gives her shoulder a gentle shake. “So talk to her. Text her, message her on Nodface, something not too nerve-wracking. See if you can at least be friends again. You can figure out the rest of it later. There’s no rush.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>“How many.” Thump. “Times.” Thump thump. “Do I.” Thump. “Have.” Thump. “To tell.” Thump thump. “Her?!”</p><p>Chloe rolls her eyes as Rachel backs off from her latest flurry of blows and goes back to bouncing in front of the bag. “What is this, the hundredth time?”</p><p>Rachel grunts and throws a quick jab at Chloe’s face, which she easily ducks. “Shut up.”</p><p>“Just sayin’ Rach, you two have been fighting about this since Blackwell.”</p><p>Fists fly some more into the bag as Rachel launches into a combination, teeth bared as she vents her frustration. Chloe tries to focus on keeping the bag steady and not crushing on her ex some more. It’s not her fault Rachel looks extra hot when she’s angry. “I swear she’s more stubborn than you, Chlo.”</p><p>More blows land on the bag as Chloe snickers. “Damn, I’ll have to step up my game. But seriously, if she’s still not listening, why are you still doing this?”</p><p>“You know why.” Rachel rolls her eyes as she bounces a bit before switching it up to kicks and landing a heavy side kick that rocks Chloe back onto her heels. “I love her, I just…”</p><p>“She needs commitment and you feel trapped by it,” Chloe finishes for her. “We broke up over the same shit.”</p><p>Cocking her head from side to side, Rachel launches into a combination of roundhouse kicks at varying heights. “On top of the rest of the mountain of shit we went through. Sometimes I wonder if things would have worked out if we’d actually run away together.”</p><p>“Probably not, we were both super fucked up between step fuck and your asshole dad. We probably would have crashed and burned before we made it Santa Cruz with how much of a junker my truck was back then,” Chloe says as Rachel switches it up again to elbows and knees, bringing them close enough so she’s not shouting it for the whole gym to hear. “Besides, we were just kids.”</p><p>“Back then? Chlo, come on, your truck is still a hunk of junk,” Rachel scoffs as she leans in with a sly grin on her face that still makes Chloe’s heart flutter all these years later. “But you know much I love dangerous and unpredictable.”</p><p>Chloe shifts the bag to hide the growing burning in her cheeks. “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, Victoria; what happened this time?”</p><p>Rachel grumbles as she launches into another combination of elbows and knees. “She made a joke about putting a ring on my finger and just uuuuugh.”</p><p>“Too much too fast?”</p><p>“We’re not even dating!” Rachel groans as she backs off to repeating her earlier combinations of punches. “I thought she was clear about my boundaries and shit after what happened over the summer, but I guess not.”</p><p>“She seems pretty sure you’re dating,” Chloe interjects as Rachel pushes through a long combination.</p><p>“And that’s the problem! I don’t do that and she just won’t let it go. It’s great when she gets it, but then she sees me getting close to you or Sandy or something and she explodes. It’s fucking infuriating!”</p><p>“You also like making her jealous.”</p><p>Chloe chuckles as Rachel reaches behind the bag and gives her a swat. “No shit, you’ve seen what she’s like when she is.”</p><p>“Ugh, don’t fucking remind me,” Chloe groans as she bangs her head against the bag to dislodge the memory before it can fully surface. “That was such a fucking bad idea.”</p><p>“I dunno…” Rachel says with a giggle that still makes Chloe’s cheeks go hot and her knees wobble. “I seem to remember you hella enjoying it. Didn’t Victoria get your high score?”</p><p>“Not anymore. And besides Victoria harassed me for weeks after to stay away from you!”</p><p>Rachel launches into a few quick combinations before bouncing around the bag. “Ugh! If she could just can the possessive shit, we’d be fine!”</p><p>“If she stopped, would you like actually date her or what?”</p><p>Rachel pauses, her guard dropping as she makes a show of mulling the question over. “Hmmmmm, that depends. When are you going to introduce me to Max? Is she single?”</p><p>“Oh fuck off!” Chloe groans and pushes the bag at Rachel, who neatly sidesteps it. “Don’t mess with Max, got it?”</p><p>“Chloe’s got a cr-u-ush!” Rachel sings before breaking out into a laughing fit.</p><p>“Fuck you, I’m hitting the showers.”</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Max can’t focus. All she’s been able to think about since her study date with Kristen and Fernando is Chloe. Honestly, all she’s been able to think about since running into Chloe again is Chloe. </p><p><em> And her washboard abs, and the way sweat runs down her-- Nope, bad Max, you are </em> <b> <em>not </em> </b> <em> supposed to be drooling over Chloe right now! You’re supposed to be texting her like a normal human being. Like you should’ve done when you were thirteen and still could have saved this friendship. Oh, fuck, I’m the worst; why would she even want to be friends with me again? </em></p><p>Max wails softly to herself and curls up on her bed. She’s got a small sachet of lavender tucked under her pillow; she breathes it in and grounds herself. <em> No spiraling and no thirsting. Get it together, Max. If you don’t text her you’re not going to stop obsessing over texting her, and if you don’t stop obsessing you’re never going to be able to do your homework, and then you’ll fail all your classes, and then-- </em>She takes a deep breath and sinks her fingers into the softness of her favorite blanket, focusing on what she can see and touch and feel so she doesn’t get lost in her head again. She wishes Kate weren’t in class; Alice’s fur and the smell of fresh, hot tea always helps bring her back to earth, not to mention the sound of Kate’s soothing voice.</p><p>“Okay,” she says out loud to the empty room. “Okay. Get a grip. Text Chloe. You used to do it all the time. It was easy then.” <em> Sure, it was easy because you hadn’t already ghosted her and ruined your friendship. </em></p><p>Max shakes off the thought and pulls out her phone. She pulls up Chloe’s contact and stares at the old picture smiling back at her from the ID screen. She looked so different back then: blonde and wiry and smiling brightly. Max smiles reflexively at the sight of Chloe’s smile. <em> Her smile hasn’t changed much</em>, Max reflects. <em> Still full of adventure and mischief.  </em></p><p>
  <b>Hey, Chloe! It was good to see you again.</b>
</p><p>Max frowns and deletes the words almost as quickly as she typed them. <em> Too casual. And leaves me open to wayyyy too much teasing about </em> <b> <em>how </em> </b> <em> I saw her again. </em></p><p>
  <b>I’m sorry I stopped texting you all those years ago. Please forgive me?</b>
</p><p>Max grimaces and deletes again. <em> Weaksauce</em>. <em> She deserves a better apology than that. </em></p><p>
  <b>Can we talk?</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Too vague. Dog, I sound like I’m breaking up with her or something. </em>
</p><p>
  <b>Hi, Captain Bluebeard. It’s your old First Mate.</b>
</p><p>
  <em> Nope, not fair to her. I can’t just go straight in by smashing the nostalgia button, that’d be mega shitty of me. </em>
</p><p>Max groans. “Texting is the worst,” she laments. She briefly considers calling Fernando or Kristen for backup, but she already knows that Fernando would tell her she needs to do it herself and that anything Kristen would suggest texting to Chloe would be unsendable. </p><p>
  <b>Hi.</b>
</p><p><em> I mean, it’s a start. </em> Max furrows her brow. She made sure to move Chloe’s contact to every new phone she got over the past six years. What if Chloe didn’t do the same?</p><p>
  <b>This is Max.</b>
</p><p>It takes her over half an hour to type out a short message, going back and forth with typing and deleting until it seems as good as it’s going to get. She pauses with her thumb hovering over the Send button. She stares at it so long it seems to stare back at her. <em> Wait. What if she changed her number? What if the text can’t be delivered? Worse, what if some creep gets it instead of Chloe?  </em></p><p>Max groans and hits the power button on her phone, blacking the screen. It takes her another half an hour to work up the nerve to go and knock on Steph’s door.</p><p>“Max! Hey!” Steph seems genuinely happy to see her, if a little surprised and concerned. “Everything okay?”</p><p>“Yeah, no, everything’s fine.” <em> Duh, she’s your RA; of course she thinks you’re here about the dorm. Idiot. </em> “I just, um. I had a question.”</p><p>“Oh, sure. Shoot.”</p><p>Max fidgets nervously. “It’s, um… about Chloe?”</p><p>“Oh. Yeah, I guess that’s not a surprise.” Steph stands aside, holding her door open. “You want to come in and talk? Or we could talk in one of the common areas if you’re more comfortable.”</p><p>Max really doesn’t want to have a conversation about Chloe out in the common areas where all her floormates could hear every word. She follows Steph’s lead and enters her room. Steph leaves the door open a few inches and takes a seat at her desk, offering Max a cozy looking beanbag chair. </p><p>“I guess I should start by apologizing,” Steph says before Max can piece together what she wants to say. “I wouldn’t have just thrown the two of you together like that if I’d realized you were the same Max Chloe’s been talking about for years. I’d’ve warned you both first, helped you meet on neutral territory if you’d wanted to meet up.”</p><p>Max is briefly stunned. <em> Chloe talks about me? I always assumed she’d just want to forget I ever existed. I can’t believe she actually talks about me enough that her friends know who I am. </em> Her stomach sinks. <em> Get real, Caulfield. Just because you talk about her like she’s the one that got away doesn’t mean that’s how she talks about you. She’s probably been venting about ‘that asshole who ditched me when I needed her most,’ not waxing nostalgic about the good old days. </em>“I… Thank you. It’s not your fault, though.” Max frowns. “It’s mine. It’s always been mine.”</p><p>Steph doesn’t contradict her, but she doesn’t reinforce the notion either. “You want some water or something?”</p><p>Max shakes her head. “No, I… I’m fine. I, um. I actually just wanted to ask you… Well.” She closes her eyes and sighs. “I’m such an idiot. She probably doesn’t even <em> want </em>to talk to me.”</p><p>“What makes you say that?”</p><p>Max opens her eyes to find Steph peering at her with intense curiosity. “Because she probably hates me?”</p><p>Steph shakes her head, dark brows knitting together in puzzlement. “She doesn’t hate you, Max. She’s hurt, but that isn’t the same thing.” At Max’s dubious expression, Steph continues, “Believe me, I’ve seen what it looks like when she hates someone. And Chloe doesn’t hate you. I’m not even sure she’s all that mad at you.”</p><p>Max scoffs in disbelief. “Yeah, right.”</p><p>“She’s a pretty forgiving person. Oh, she’s pissed at you, for sure. But if there’s one thing I know about Chloe, it’s that she has a hard time staying mad at people she cares about.”</p><p>Max chews her lip. “I don’t know if she still does, and I can’t really blame her after what I did.”</p><p>“Did you ever stop caring about her?”</p><p>“Not for a second,” Max replies, startled by her own honesty.</p><p>“Well, there you go. So, if you came to ask me if I think you should talk to Chloe, then yeah. I think you should. You two meant a lot to each other once, and I think you probably would again if you can mend bridges. I can’t promise it’ll be easy, of course. Chloe can be… stubborn.”</p><p>Max laughs softly. “That’s putting it lightly.”</p><p>Steph smirks. “I see we know the same Chloe Price.”</p><p>Max smiles. “I do want to talk to her. I always did, I just…” She shakes her head. “But. I want to try. I wrote her a text because I didn’t want to just call her up out of nowhere--” <em> Or have her hang up on me… </em> “--but I suddenly realized that Chloe might not have the same number. But I figured you would know.”</p><p>“It’s the same number. Different phone, but she’s kept the same number.” She purses her lips. “I’ve tried to convince her to change it more than once, but…” Her eyes flick toward Max’s, then away. “Well. Stubborn, like I said.”</p><p>“That’s good to know. I didn’t want to accidentally text some rando and get an unsolicited dick pic in return.”</p><p>Steph laughs. “I mean, still a risk with Chloe. I swear, half her bottom drawer collection is just for trolling her friends or guys who think they have a chance with her.” </p><p><em> Don’t ask what the other half is for, don’t ask what the other half is for, don’t ask what the other half is for… </em> Max turns strawberry red up to the roots of her hair. “O-oh. I guess I’ll have to take that risk, then.”</p><p>Max waits until she’s back in the safe solitude of her room before she musters up her courage and pulls up her unsent text message.</p><p>
  <b>Hi, if you still have the same number I guess you probably still have my contact. If not, it’s Max. I can’t count the number of times I’ve tried to send you a text like this over the years, but it just never seems like enough. I always missed you, and I’m so, so sorry I messed everything up. I don’t know how to make it up to you, but if you’ll have me I want to try.</b>
</p><p>Max takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, and presses Send.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Chloe groans with satisfaction as the scalding hot shower burns away the aches in her muscles. <em> Yup, overdid it. Thanks a fucking lot, Rach. </em></p><p>“You done in there or do I have to come in?”</p><p>“Fuck off, Rach!” Chloe retorts with a laugh as she lingers under the hot water. “You know my apartment’s hot water is shit! Let me enjoy this!”</p><p>“Oh I can think of some things to enjoy,” Rachel teases over the sounds of the showers and Chloe freezes for a moment as she shoves the butterflies in her stomach down.</p><p>“Let me shower in peace god dammit!”</p><p>Rachel’s teasing laughter floats through the air and Chloe tries not to think about what she just turned down. She flicks the temperature to cold to force the thoughts out of her mind before bailing on the shower entirely.</p><p>She finds Rachel at their lockers, already mostly dressed and applying makeup from her compact. “Damn, got somewhere to be?”</p><p>“You know I like to be early to my classes.”</p><p>Chloe snorts and starts dialing in her combination. “Yeah yeah, gotta schmooze with the professors if you want a good endorsement and all that shit.”</p><p>“Not all of us can just skate by like you Ms. I’m Hella Fucking Smart When I Feel Like It.” Rachel snaps her compact shut after finishing up with her eyeliner. “I’ve gotta work my ass off for this.”</p><p>“Have to or feel the need to?” Chloe says as she starts pulling out her own street clothes.</p><p>Rachel just laughs. “So. Max. When are you going to introduce us, or am I going to have to introduce myself?”</p><p>Chloe chokes a little imagining <em> that </em> disaster as she lays out her clothes on the bench. “Dude, I just… Lay off for now, okay?”</p><p>There’s a gentle pat on Chloe’s back. “I know, I’m just teasing. Someone has to kick your ass a bit, right?”</p><p>Before Chloe can retort, the bench rattles with the buzzing of her phone. She fishes it out of her pocket and nearly drops it when she sees who the text is from. “Shit!”</p><p>“What’s up?” Rachel asks. “Some guy trying to hit on you?”</p><p>Chloe stares at the header on the notification as if that’ll change the name at the top, and the little picture on the side that makes her chest hurt. “No… Max, uh, texted me.”</p><p>“Oh yeah?”</p><p>“Uh…” Chloe hesitates for a few moments, her body tensing as a rush of conflicting emotions smash into her. Just seeing the little picture of that fucking dopey teen she used to know brings so much pain and heartache roaring back. But she can’t bring herself to be angry with her in the moment. That little crooked smile from her ancient icon makes it fucking impossible. With a sigh she unlocks her phone and scans the message. “She’s… she’s trying to apologize and she wants to talk about what happened.”</p><p>“What’re you going to do?” Rachel asks and Chloe can’t miss the edge in her voice.</p><p>“I, uh, don’t know yet,” she replies with a sigh.</p><p>“Can I see it?”</p><p>With a shrug Chloe holds up the screen so Rachel can see it. “Knock yourself out.”</p><p>There’s a sharp intake of break and Rachel walks around to stand in front of Chloe, her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “What a fucking sorry excuse for an apology. Maybe you should leave her on ‘read’ for a while, let her know how it feels.”</p><p>“Whoa, hey, the fuck? Five seconds ago you were all up in my shit about meeting her.”</p><p>Rachel takes a deep breath and sighs. “It’s just fun to tease you. I remember how much you used to hurt over her. Every time you talked about her you got this look like she’d ripped your soul out or something, and now she’s just back and wants to pick up like it was nothing? Fuck. That. How long has it been now? Six years? Seven?”</p><p>Chloe frowns and looks back to the little icon on her phone as she quietly mutters, “Seven in a couple months.”</p><p>“She could have found you on, like, any kind of social media,” Rachel spits out, her face turning into a scowl. “Instead she runs into you out of dumb fucking luck and <em> now </em> she wants to say something? She couldn’t even woman up enough to apologize to your face!”</p><p>Chloe shakes her head and runs her fingers through her hair. “Dude, I know Max, okay? She’s got to be tearing herself apart right now.”</p><p>“So what are you going to do? Let her walk all over you?”</p><p>“Jesus Rach, lay off! I’m not about to just pretend like it didn’t hurt that she wasn’t there for what that asshole put me through and all the other shit that went down, okay?” With a grunt she pushes up off the bench. “But I’m not going to be a bitch to her for no reason. I just… I need something more than a stupid text to get things across to her.”</p><p>A grimace passed over Rachel’s face before she sighed. “Sorry, I just… I don’t want to watch her hurt you again.”</p><p>Turning back to her clothes, Chloe starts pulling on her pants. “I’m going to be careful, trust me. I don’t think she even knows what she did. She was still pretty much the same nervous Max I remember, she probably had a shitty time in Seattle herself. Why would she have time for my bullshit anyways?”</p><p>“Because you were best friends, that’s why! It’s not like Steph stopped caring about you after what went down.”</p><p>“That’s not the same and you fucking know it,” Chloe snapped as she threw her tank top on. “Look, if she hurts me you can set her house on fire or some shit.”</p><p>“I’ll take that deal,” Rachel said with a laugh. “Anyways, I don’t want to be late. Caio.”</p><p>Chloe turned her attention back to the text as she gave a half hearted wave. <em> Max, what the fuck am I going to do with you? </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Rain: Sorry this took so long, life kind of got in the way for both of us, but we hope you enjoy this chapter!</p><p>Also I was on a podcast for... some reason. If you want to hear me babble about LiS and fanfic, you can listen to it <a href="https://lnns.co/BP6OGf57kg0">here.</a></p><p>Ghost: Ditto! Hope you like your Kristens crass AF.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ghost: This fic started with an off-hand conversation about Chloe as a hockey player, and it quickly snowballed into this soap opera worthy gay mess. Thank you to the Wrecking Collective crew for getting carried away with me and especially to my co-author Rain for volunteering to co-pilot this crazy-train (thank goodness ONE of us knows something about hockey!). </p><p>Rain: I'm so happy that this is finally getting the light of day. As the resident Canadian author I'm happy the hockey trivia I absorbed through osmosis over the years is finally being put to good use. A huge thanks to Ghost for working on my first collab fic with me, they've been an absolute pleasure to work with and I hope you all enjoy the gay trainwreck to come.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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